


The Parting Glass

by Darksknight



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fix It Fic, Kubo shaming, Orihime unfucks bleach, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, slight rukihime start, starts out with the cannon bleach ending but changes, the underage tag is because she's back in her 15 year old body but still thinks like a 23 y/o, ulquihime endgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2019-11-16 07:52:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 62,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darksknight/pseuds/Darksknight
Summary: “I’m from the future,” she whispered. “My powers are the negation of time and reality. You guessed they were healing. You were wrong.”He nodded. “Why did you come back? Did we lose?”She looked up at him.“Did we lose to Aizen?”She shook her head.“Then what?”“I promised you one answer,” she reminded him.“One more. One more and I promise, I’ll erase this night and your face and name from our memories. For good.”She sighed. “Alright…” She looked away from him. “It was an accident but um. This sort of. Seemed easier than getting divorced.”





	1. Good night and joy be to you all

_Of all the money that e’er I had_

_I spent it in good company_

_And all the harm I’ve ever done_

_Alas it was to none but me_

_And all I’ve done for want of wit_

_To mem’ry now I can’t recall_

_So fill to me the parting glass_

_Good night and joy be to you all_

_And drink a health whate’er befall_

_And gently rise and softly call_

_Good night and joy be to you all_

_Of all the comrades that e'er I had_

_They're sorry for my going away_

_And all the sweethearts that e'er I had_

_They'd wish me one more day to stay_

_But since it fell unto my lot_

_That I should rise and you should not_

_I gently rise and softly call_

_Good night and joy be to you all_

_A man may drink and not be drunk_

_A man may fight and not be slain_

_A man may court a pretty girl_

_And perhaps be welcomed back again_

_But since it has so ought to be_

_By a time to rise and a time to fall_

_Come fill to me the parting glass_

_Good night and joy be with you all_

_Good night and joy be with you all_

_-The Parting Glass, traditional Scottish song_

 

 

“I just don’t see why it’s a big deal. I’m only going to be gone a month.”

Only a couple of days. Only a week. Only a couple of weeks. It was always a long trip, made longer every time she allowed the other to pass. This was a stepping stone from being away from home for a month and a half, then two. Soon enough he wouldn’t be home at all, and the scary things was, Orihime wasn’t even sure if she cared.

She stared her husband down with a frown. She and Ichigo had been married about a year and a half. She was pretty sure her only shot at happiness was a kid. He didn’t want one. She wanted to stop playing house wife and go back to school. He said he’d support her when they were making enough money. They were never making enough money. She wanted to go back to work. No one would hire a high school dropout with a bad case of PTSD.

“Ichigo, you’re the only person I have,” she argued gently. She didn’t like to raise her voice at him if she could avoid it. “What am I supposed to do for a month? Sewing dresses is fine, but I get bored, you know.” She’d wanted to leave Karakura, and all its bad memories behind, just like everyone else. Ichigo, though, had wanted to remain there, waiting. Orihime didn’t have any friends left--she wasn’t even friends with the haughty couple next door, as badly as she wanted to be–they thought she and Ichigo were small time thugs, or something like that. She didn’t know.

“Well this should be a great chance for you to get to meet some people.” He shoved another pair of pants in his suitcase. “Join a club, go to the park. I don’t know. Do something.”

“I don’t like to go out alone,” she muttered.

“You know I don’t either. I don’t know how to help you.”

“By staying by my side, like you promised you would when you married me.”

“I can’t always be here.” He started to fold a tie.

“So then maybe it’s time to get a dog like we talked about. I’d feel alright taking a dog out to the park every day. I just need a little company. Is that too much to ask?”

“We can’t afford the pet deposit,” he said.

“We could,” she argued.

Ichigo ignored her. “It’s a short trip. I’m going to Kawasaki, not China. You can call me any time, promise. I’ll be out of your hair so you can spruce the house up. Maybe paint the kitchen like you were talking about?”

“Maybe,” she muttered.

“See? It’s not all bad.” He smiled at her. “These longer trips are a good thing, Orihime. I’m due for a promotion.”  
She knew that was BS. The longer business trips were a cover up for his secret shinigami business. He wasn’t supposed to be moonlighting anymore–Soul Society had told him as much, and now that it was her business, Orihime had told him too. They were both moving on, and his vigilante activities were a step in the wrong direction. She would have been fine if he wanted to drop everything and go back to that life, but he’d already said he was done with it--that they both were. Orihime had agreed. Ichigo was the one who couldn’t handle it.

She also suspected he was cheating on her. The guilt was written all over his face any time he came home. There was never any evidence, he was too smart for that, but she saw the way he looked at her. She didn’t know if it was Grimmjow, or if somehow Rukia was slipping her guard to come back to the human realm to see him, or if he was seeing random strangers to try to fill the void, or what. Frankly, she didn’t care anymore.

She was tired. So very, very tired.

Ichigo clipped his suitcase closed. “There,” he said. “I think that’s everything.”

She stared at the floor, determined not to cry. A lump was forming in her throat, tight and hot, and she wanted nothing more than to just yell at him. Why couldn’t he just be there for her, for once in his life?

“Hey.” His hands settled on her shoulders, large and heavy. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not fair of me to leave all the time.”

He could apologize all he wanted, but it didn’t mean he’d stop. He never would. “It’s okay,” she mumbled, ever the push-over when it came to him.

“...” he used his hand to gently tilt her chin up. He smiled at her, the lines around his eyes softening for just a moment. He was aged beyond his years. “Hey. It’s just a month. I’ll be back before you know it.”

It would feel like another year of solitude, but sure. “Okay.”

He kissed her mouth quickly. “I’ll see you soon.”  
She didn’t see him out. She stayed rooted to the spot, listening to him close the apartment door on his way out. Her hands trembled at her sides as silence fell over the room. Hot tears bit at her eyelids as she ground her teeth together.

She wasn’t even mad at him. That was the worst part. She understood, through and through. They’d gotten married out of some sort of sense of obligation to each other, being the only ones left, so she’d never expected their union to be a fairytale romance. He was ruined by the war, left hurt and hard both at once. She knew that deep down, he was still in love with Rukia, and that even though they were barred from seeing each other, he still likely held out hope. Didn’t matter how hard Orihime tried. She had been second to Rukia in high school, and she was second now that she was twenty three.

She felt aged beyond her years. The mental and physical damage done by the war had never been undone, and she carried it with her every day, lonely and too scared to try to fix that. Ichigo was leaving her behind, little by little. She wondered what would happen to her the day he left for a business trip and just never came back.

Tired and alone, she crawled into their bed. Ichigo’s side barely even smelled like him, but she pressed her teary face into the pillow and tried to breath him in, telling herself that she wasn’t alone.

She missed how things had been. She missed her friends, and her old life, and happiness most of all. She missed it so hard that it manifested as a physical ache in her chest, raw and open like a wound.

Knowing it was stupid, she reached for her phone roughly five hours after he’d left, to see if he’d made it to the hotel yet, if he was settling in. The dial tone went on, and then the line rang, and rang, and rang.

_“This is Ichigo Kurosaki, call me back or leave a message.”_

Any time, huh? She folded her phone and put it on the bedside table, closing her eyes as she rolled over onto her side. She breathed in slowly, out slowly, in slowly, out slowly, in… She felt her eyes burn with unshed tears. Her throat was tight.

 _I just want to go back,_ she kept thinking. _If I could do anything, anything, I would go back. Back to the way things used to be._


	2. And gently rise and softly call

 

There was a loud beeping sound nearby. Ichigo’s alarm clock--he must have forgotten to turn it off before leaving. Groggily, Orihime blinked her eyes open, rubbing the sleep from them. She groaned, reaching over to the nightstand to turn it off.

Her fingers met the wall.

 _What the hell?_ She cracked her eyes opened and stared at the wall. It was pale pink.

Startled, she sat up, looking around. The alarm clock had gotten louder, but it barely reached her. She stared, lips parted slightly. A queen sized bed with a pink comforter, a room with rosy walls. Carpet. A second-hand bookcase and desk. Pictures of her friends tacked up on the walls.

She was in her room. The room from her apartment, where she’d stayed in Karakura all those years ago. The room she’d been in back in high school. There, on the book shelf, was the teddy bear her brother had given her. It wasn’t torn, as it had become after Sora had come back as a hollow. Everything was… serene.

“This is a dream,” she said. Her voice came out sugary sweet. She reached up, touching her face. Her cheeks were round with baby fat. “A dream,” she repeated. She could hear in both ears.

She threw the covers off and ran to her bathroom. She was wearing a pair of button up pajamas printed with ducklings and flowers, and she ripped the top off with such ferocity that several buttons pinged against the glass of the mirror. She turned, eyes wide and harried, and investigated her body.

The only thing marring her back was the tan line from a swimsuit, years ago thrown away. “A dream!” She yelled at the mirror. Her breasts swung into view, smaller with her young age. She cupped them. “A dream!”

She ran back into her room. Posted above her cluttered desk was a calendar.

August 20th, 2001. The summer just before it all began.

“Holy shit.” She back-peddled to the bathroom to stare herself down in the mirror. “This is a dream,” she told her reflection. “Wake up!” She slapped herself, hard. Pain bloomed across her cheek, but she did not wake. She pulled her hand back, staring at it. No wedding ring.

God but that was a relief, somehow. She knew she should feel bad for feeling relieved, but there was no stopping it. She dropped her hand and looked back up into the mirror, staring herself down.

So much had changed. Her hair was longer, and her bangs were horribly short and choppy; this was before she got good at cutting her own hair. She was rounder in the face but sharper around the hips, and there were not premature lines in her face. She snapped a finger next to her ear again, unable to believe she could hear the noise. She hadn’t been able to hear out of both ears since before Hueco Mundo. Since before Ichigo had turned… hollow.

The alarm clock suddenly shut itself off, as though it understood no one was going to heed its screaming. Orihime hadn’t even realized it was still going off, but the sudden silence snapped her out of her trance in the mirror.

“This is probably a dream,” she said out loud, but she didn’t sound confident even to her own ears. “Probably,” she said. She stood there for a moment longer, just looking her younger self down in the mirror. Oh, but she had been the innocent type, her bathing suit tan line nearly reaching her collar bones.

She touched them, reverently. No scars. Nothing.

Her hand drifted from her collar to her face, and then further--to her hairline. Her hair pins were missing. She never went to bed without her hairpins, and for a moment, panic swelled in her like a tide. She recalled, then, how casual she had been with them in the past. They were probably still on her nightstand.

There was a sudden noise outside her room.

“Orihime!”

She turned, eyes wide. She knew that voice.

“Orihime! Come on, we’re going to be late!”

“T…” She crept out of the bathroom and back into her bedroom. “Tatsuki?”

Tatsuki appeared in the doorway. “Are you rea--Orihime! Put a shirt on, what the hell!?” She dropped her bag and covered her eyes, face bright red. “What are you even doing, we’re going to be late!”

“Late…?” She blinked. “For what?”

“School! You didn’t forget, did you? For crying out loud, it’s the second week!”

Orihime blinked at her.

“Well? Get a move on!”

“R-right!” Orihime turned to head into the bathroom, where her closet was in the apartment she shared with Ichigo. She remembered a second later that she’d had a dresser once upon a time, and doubled back to frantically search for her uniform.

As she went through her clothes she couldn't help but cringe. Her clothing was so ugly. Of course, she’d been dirt poor, but still, the things she’d come up with… A maxi orange skirt and a purple button up? What had she been thinking?

Finally, she secured her uniform and dressed, all the while ignoring Tatsuki, who was talking about homework. Homework. Like Orihime wasn’t having the mind-trip of the century. Finished, she grabbed the hairpins from her nightstand.

“Ready?”

“Um…” she furrowed her brow, staring at the pins. She could feel her fairies, but they weren’t active. They were sleeping. The last time they’d slept was during the war, when she’d completely exhausted her powers healing the wounded. (On both sides, but that was her dirty little secret.) She’d not used them to such an extent since.

“Orihime? Jeez, are you even awake in there?” Tatsuki fondly knocked on the back of Orihime’s head.

Orihime ignored the way her skin crawled from being touched by someone she couldn’t see and quickly hopped around. “Yeah, I’m ready.” She put her pins on the lapel of her uniform.

“New look?” Tatsuki raised her brows.

“Yeah, for if my hair gets damaged, so they won’t fall out.” She realized what a dumb thing that was to say just as it came out. Fifteen-year-old Orihime wouldn’t have worried about such things. “W-when the aliens come take over! Spooky!”

Tatuski eyed her. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Hime. Now let’s go, we’re already running late.” They started for the door. “What are--Get your lunch! Are you okay? Did you hit your head?”

“Oh. My lunch! Right!” Orihime turned on her heel and went to the fridge, where there was a neatly wrapped lunchbox waiting for her. She could not imagine what horrors it contained. That was a problem for later. She appeared at the door. “Ready. For real this time.” Unless, of course, there was something else she’d forgotten. But Tatsuki said nothing, simply waiting while Orihime hurried to put her shoes on.

Together, they ventured out into the hot April air.

“God, Ichigo pissed me off last night,” she said.

Orihime stiffened at the mention. “What did he do?”

“He’s quitting the dojo. Something about dealing with some problem he’s having. I don’t know. It’s all bullshit, basically. He’s just pissy he can’t skip up a bunch of levels when he’s always missing practice.”

He was probably having his ghost problem really come to head about now. “Oh. That’s too bad.” Did she have a crush on him by this point? She couldn’t remember. Did it matter if she played along, anyway? She was still pretty sure this was a dream.

She stumbled on the uneven sidewalk. She looked down, glaring. They’d fixed that her senior year, just before she dropped out.

Tatsuki laughed good naturedly. “Klutz.”  
Her toes hurt. Maybe this wasn’t a dream. But there was… there was no way she’d gone back in time eight years. Sure, her powers were domain over time and reality, but she hadn’t even summoned her fairies…

Or had she? She reached up, touching them where they rested on her chest. She could feel them sleeping; more than just tired, they were exhausted. Was it possible that they had somehow sent her back in the timeline? They were extensions of her soul. What she wanted, they carried out. Had she simply wished to go back so hard that she had?

Impossible. There was just no way.

This had to be some sort of trick.

“Duck your head,” Tatsuki said. She reached out and gently pushed Orihime down, so that she wouldn’t smack her face into a low-hanging tree branch. Orihime looked over at her friend. She felt her eyes get glassy.

Tatsuki really had looked out for her, back in the day. Before everything had gone to shit. Why hadn’t she trusted Tatsuki? She should have. The woman was her very best friend. She’d missed her, so, so badly, so much that it took hold of her like a physical force and squeezed.

She hurled herself at Tatsuki, hugging her for everything she was worth.

“O-Orihime!?” Tatsuki staggered for a second before she regained her balance. “Whoa, whoa, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Orihime sniffed and discretely wiped her face as she drew back. “I just missed you.”

“I walked you to school yesterday…” She reached out, putting the back of her hand against Orihime’s forehead. “You don’t feel warm. Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting very strange.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. I promise. Now come on,” she grabbed Tatsuki’s hand. “We’re going to be late if we don’t hurry.” She didn’t let go of Tatsuki’s hand, even seeing the girl’s blush. She’d been so blind when she was younger.

Running into school was a feeling without description. People she hadn’t seen in years, friends she’d cut out of her life, smiles she thought she’d never see again. She could barely take it all in. What really drove it all was sitting down in class and seeing Chad and Uryuu, young and unspoilt by the ravages of war and pain. They were painfully youthful, and innocent. She ached for both of them.

The bell rang, and in stumbled Ichigo.

He looked tired, but not the way she was used to. He hadn’t been sleeping, was all, but the rest of him… he was a child. A mere boy. His hair stuck up every which-way, untamed from Ichigo’s disregard; he hadn’t grown into what would become his true image yet. He looked too long and all wrong, body not yet done growing. He scowled, almost comically. There was no weight behind his eyes, no ghosts. His bare hands were unmarked and soft-looking. His belt was hanging over the side, too long. He was almost skinny. He didn’t look happy, but compared to what she knew, it was a near thing.

She realized she was staring and looked away quickly. Tatsuki caught her eye and grinned, knowingly. So then she had a crush on him, even back then. And he hadn’t even known what good cologne was, yeesh. She had no standards.

Class began. She didn’t know how to feel about it all, but she had time to check out. She remembered most of the material they would be going over, and she needed to just… think, for a minute.

It wasn’t a dream. She was almost certain about that. It was too real, and already had carried on for too long to be usual. Under the desk, she pinched her thigh. Yep, she could still feel pain, and everything else, too. The details were too sharp, the things she’d forgotten too easy to find. This was real, some way or another.

So what did that mean for her?

For years, she’d laid awake at night next to a husband who she didn’t love, knowing he was probably thinking about someone else himself, and wondered what she could have done differently. Not just with him, but with everything. The beginning, the war, her powers, her friends… everything.

And she was right at the beginning of it all. If this was really what she thought it was, and she had somehow transported herself back in time, she had a chance to change everything. And it all started with one person.

She opened the notebook on top of her stack of texts and such. It had flowers and glittery butterflies on the cover, and faded hearts on the actual pages, which were a pale pink. She grabbed her blue glitter gel pen with the hello kitty charm on the end and clicked it a few times, before writing KILL AIZEN at the very top of the page, bold letters, underlined three times.

As she understood it, the timeline was thus:

Rukia would arrive in a few days, and lose her powers. Ichigo would become a shinigami. Aizen would set that all up, but then he would leave to be sure his plans in soul society were going just so.

Rukia’s body would start acting up. Kisuke would give her the new gigia, this one with the hogyoku embedded in it. From there, the plot would truly unfold.

Rukia would be arrested, Ichigo would almost die. Rukia would be sentenced to death by Aizen, who would have by then killed central 46. Ichigo would train to save her, and then enter soul society.

They would rescue her. Aizen would retrieve the hogyoku. And from there, the war would begin.

She chewed her lip. In her midnight idling, she’d often thought about stopping it all. But she remembered Ichigo after the war, idle and useless, wishing simply for more. How could she take that away from him? The chance to learn the truth about what had happened to his mother, and have not only revenge, but closure? Ichigo had done great things as a shinigami, and not just during the war.

Could she take that away from him? Even knowing the pain that he would endure, that they would all endure?

She knew it had to happen. Rukia would have to meet Ichigo, as fate dictated. From there, though, she could begin to change the timeline. As of that very moment, there were only  a handful of people that knew about Aizen’s true intentions. She just happened to be the only person who knew that Aizen was unaware of. That was her true advantage in all of this. Aizen’s plans could all be crushed by the tiniest anomaly.

And she was a pretty big wrench in the gears, if she did say so herself.

A note landed on her desk. Orihime looked up, instinctively, but of course no one was looking her way. She opened it, finding it was from Tatsuki. She recognized the handwriting.

_Where should we eat lunch?_

Orihime couldn’t help but smile. Back in the day she’d always idled about going somewhere else before finally deciding to go to the tree, like always. Not this time. She wanted to see her old friends, of course, but she had a mission to begin.

 _The roof_ she wrote back.

She needed to talk to Ichigo.

~(o0o)~

“Are you sure you really want to do this?” Tatsuki whispered. They walked steadily up the stairwell. Orihime was slightly frustrated, finding herself winded by the hurried pace. She was out of shape. That would be fixed soon.

“Yes,” she said.

“I thought you were afraid of Ichigo,” Tatsuki teased. “Everyone is.”

“What’s he going to do? Punch me in broad daylight?” Orihime rolled her eyes, knowing Tatsuki couldn’t see. She heard Tatsuki’s steps falter for a moment before she continued up the stairs.

“Ichigo wouldn’t hit a girl,” Tatsuki tsked.

“Not yet, anyway,” Orihime muttered. He’d be just fine with it when he realized that there were such things as female villains. Louder, she said, “I know. I’m not scared of him.” What was it she had used to say… Oh, right. “I think he has a funny face.”

“Oh… kay?”

She threw open the door to the roof. Ichigo, Chad, Keigo, and Mizuru were already up there, talking back and forth as they opened their lunch boxes. Orihime started towards them, determined.

“Orihime,” Tatsuki hissed. “What are you doing?”

“I didn’t come up here to pretend to ignore them,” she said.

“What? Orihime, can we talk--ah, hi, Ichigo!”

Ichigo squinted up at Orihime and Tatsuki. Blinded by the sun behind Orihime’s head, he looked even more like a kid. This was the boy who would shake worlds. This was the boy who would defy death. The boy who would go to Hell and back again, beat every last impossibility the universe had to order. This was the boy who would be a god.

God he looked stupid.

“Ichigo,” Orihime nodded at him and then sat, folding her legs neatly beneath herself. “Chad. Keigo, Mizuru.”

“She talked to me!” Kiego squeaked. He eyed her chest without shame.

Orihime ignored him. She looked up at Tatsuki, reaching her hand out in asking. “Sit,” she said, and smiled. Tatsuki colored again, but she did sit, squishing in between Ichigo and Orihime.

Orihime turned and smiled at Chad, who was on her other side. Like Ichigo, most people feared him. She never had, but she hadn’t gotten used to his hulking stature right away either. Now, as a young teen, he looked like a puppy to her. She scooted closer, so that their arms brushed, and did not lean away from him. He watched her, curious and surprised, and, she was sure, happy to see she was comfortable with him.

Out of the whole group, she had to say it was Mizuru who was most conventionally dangerous. She’d heard about the molotov cocktail incident.

“Ichigo, do you know Uryuu Ishida?” She started without preamble.

“Uh…” he blinked at her, surprised that she was there to begin with, it seemed.

She waited.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so. What grade?”

“What grade?” Tatsuki recovered. “Are you stupid? He’s in our class!”

“A transfer?”

“For the love of--”

“I think you two would get along,” Orihime said with a bright smile. “I feel bad for him, he’s always alone when he eats. Maybe you could bully him into being your friend.”

“Bully? Now hold on a second. I don’t know what kind of guy you think I am--”

“So you’ll do it?” She beamed up at him, blinking her large ‘innocent’ eyes at him. She was twenty three damn years old, and she knew how to sway men and women alike to her advantage. She was gorgeous and brilliant, and she was not the little girl she had once been. Matsumoto had taught her the trade of manipulation just as she’d taught her the sword.

“I… uh, I…”

“Great!” Orihime leaned around Tatsuki to grab Ichigo’s hand and shake it, as though they were closing a deal. Physical touch was key. Tomorrow, if she remembered correctly. Tomorrow Ichigo was going to meet Rukia. If she remembered correctly, his weird rivalry with Ishida started after that.

Not if she could get to Ishida first.

“Tatsuki, you and Ichigo catch up.” Orihime stood with a little smile, easily falling into the body language of her former self. She’d had lots of practice acting like nothing had changed, after all. “I’ll be right back!” She abandoned her lunch and friends alike, heading back down to the classroom, where Uryuu often ate alone.

He’d always been a melancholy sort of man. Ichigo, of course, had been depressed from the beginning, but he’d gotten better when he found something to apply himself to--his shinigami work. Uryuu had always had his quincy heritage to hold to, but it did not hold the glory and happiness that it did for Ichigo. In it were Uryuu’s memories of a beloved grandfather, murdered, and nearly as bad, his father’s ever-present hypocrisy and shame.

She slid the classroom door. To anyone else, he wouldn’t have revealed that he had even seen her. But she knew the tilt of his head and the stiffening of his shoulders--the trick where he adjusted his glasses, catching a reflection in the back of the glass. Uryuu had always been smart, even as a teen.

“Uryuu,” she said. She paused. Shit, she’d called everyone by their first names. She must have looked nuts. The day before, she’d probably not been able to so much as look them in the eye. It had taken her until she was nineteen to call Ichigo by his first name. “I mean, Ishida.”

“Inoue,” he said. He inclined his head.

She rushed around his desk and turned the chair in front of him around, so that she could sit while facing him. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“... We are classmates.”

“We’re clubmates, too. You help me with my sewing. You buy fabric with me. Wouldn’t you say that’s what friends do?” When he just stared at her she sighed. He’d been so much more difficult, back in the day. “Come sit with me.”

“What?” He began to pink.

“Come sit with me. And my friends. Up on the roof. You know Kurosaki, right? I think you two could friends.” At his huff of disbelief she laughed. “I know, I know. It seems crazy. But I really think you would be good friends. I’m seldom wrong about these things, Uryuu!”

He looked at her, brows furrowed. For a moment, he was silent. “You’re different,” he said, after a moment.

She swallowed. “What? Me? Of course I’m different! I change every day, one to the next. That’s the glory of life!” She threw her hands dramatically over her head, for flair. She hoped it was working.

“... Right,” he sighed. “Listen, Inoue, it’s not that I don’t appreciate your offer, but I prefer to eat alone.”

“No you don’t.”

He scowled on instinct, looking back up at her. “Excuse me?”

She looked at him, calmly. “No you don’t.”

He stared.

Orihime shrugged, looking away. “I get lonely. Do you get lonely, Uryuu?” When he didn’t answer she went on. “I think you’ve been alone. For a very long time. And I don’t think you like it nearly as much as you pretend to. I think it’s all you know, but you wish… you wish it wasn’t. I think you want to go up to the roof and eat with and my friends, and I think you’re desperate for a way to do it without ruining your reputation.”

His eyes met her own. His scowl faltered, and after a moment, disappeared completely. “I…” He looked at his hands. His fingers were bandaged. He’d been overrun with the recent influx of hollows, it seemed. That was right--before Rukia had come, he’d been the only one protecting Karakura. What a lonely existence it must have been.

“You wouldn’t leave me and Tatsuki up there with a bunch of boys, unsupervised, would you? You’re always so concerned about decorum. Wouldn’t it make sense for you to be there, to make sure no funny business goes down?”

He went pink again. “Well. I. I. Um.”

“Come up to the roof with us tomorrow,” she said, looking at the clock. She was already out of time. “If you don’t, I just might cry. And you wouldn’t want to make a girl cry, now, would you, Uryuu?”

He looked quickly down at his desk, pushing his glasses up awkwardly. Ah, to be fifteen again. “I guess I wouldn’t.”

She laughed. “Good. I’ll see you then.” She stood and started back to her own desk, knowing the bell would ring soon. She paused astride Uryuu, though, and said, “Thank you. I mean it.”

He looked up at her, confusion written in his face. The bell rang before he could ask her anything, though, and Orihime flitted back to her desk, pasting on a big dorky smile, hoping that despite everything, she was still sliding beneath the radar.

~(o0o)~

 

Being fifteen again was novel for less than a day. By the time she walked herself back home, she was bone-tired from pretending all day, laden down with homework she’d completed once before anyway, and on top of it all, she was starving. She’d completely forgotten to eat her lunch, and then had actually gotten in trouble when trying to eat it later on. She’d forgotten that she could get in trouble for doing anything in high school. Most of all, asking to go to the bathroom. Who asked to go? Like they had a right to deny her right to pee!

Whatever. She was alone, and she could finally eat her lunch. Her lunch, which consisted of rice, red bean paste, and pickled eggs. She stared at the disgusting mush before popping it in the microwave, knowing full well that there was no way she could afford to just throw away food. She’d not forgotten what it was like to just barely scrape by.

She set up camp in her underwear and an oversized T-shirt, eating her reheated lunch while she watched some crime show that was probably cancelled in her future. Raunchy stuff, with sexy uniforms and heavy kissing scenes. Fifteen-year-old Orihime would have watched through her fingers while blushing. Twenty-three-year-old Orihime wondered about the moral implications of using her underaged body for sex, and then eventually found herself at a shady corner store happily purchasing a case of old porn VHSs while internally hoping the clerk thought she wasn't fifteen, because, well, that was just messed up. She took her stash back home and merrily rubbed one out on the couch, internally lamenting the loss of easy access to pornography via the internet as the picture went fuzzy now and then.

“Oh, the joys of being twenty three,” she chimed, and went ahead and brought an improvement from year nineteen to her fifteen year old self by ordering a vibrator online, unwilling to take her far-too-young body to any sort of actual sex shop. She was going to have the most stressful month ever, so of course the vibrator was necessary, but she could wait for it to arrive in the mail. 

She wanted to buy sake, which Ran had gotten her sweet on, but she was pretty sure she wouldn’t fool anyone on that front. She could always pull a Rangiku and flash her tits for some alcohol, but again. Fifteen years old. She didn’t want to debauch herself like that when she was just a teen. What would Sora say?

She gasped, sitting up suddenly and dislodging her dishes. They went tumbling to the floor, but she didn’t notice. “Holy crap! Sora.”

Quickly, she ran to her room, throwing on a bra and some pajama pants. With a pair of slippers on, she ran out onto the porch, looking around frantically. She was worried, for a moment, that maybe he younger body wouldn’t have her older-self’s spiritual powers, and that she wouldn't be able to see souls yet.

But there he was.

She hadn’t gotten to see him again, as himself, after he’d died. She’d seen his face, and his hollow form, but not him. He stood there, in his funeral suit, looking down at the house. He looked sad.

“Sora!” She yelled.

He startled, looking around.

“Sora!” She waved, both arms above her head. “Sora!”

He looked down at her, clearly confused. “Or… ihime?”

“I can see you!” She called. She laughed. Her eyes were teary again, but she wiped at them quickly. “Come here, come here, quick!”

He did, eyes wide in disbelief. He stepped onto the porch. “Orihime, can you… can you see me?”

“I can see you!” She laughed. She rushed at him, hugging him tightly. Her hands didn’t pass through him. She could feel his entire body jolt in surprise. She drew back, still laughing, and blinked the tears from her eyes. “Come inside before the neighbors see me and call me a crazy person.”

He followed, shocked into silence, and allowed himself to be guided to her table, where he sat. She sat on the surface of the table, right next to him, holding his hands in her lap. For a minute, all she could do was look at him, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth.

He stared at her, lost.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Orihime, is this a dream?”

“I’ve been asking myself that all day,” she laughed. “Oh, Sora. It’s so good to see you. I’ve miss you so much.” She hugged him again, delighting in the way he held her back this time. “I’m so sorry I couldn't see you before. I know you were watching over me, I really do. I know you heard me praying.”

“I thought you were starting to forget about me,” he whispered.

“How could I ever forget you?” She admonished. “Oh, Sora. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I am, too, but… how can you see me? Now, when you couldn’t before?”

“That’s… well, that’s a long story. But god, Sora, I feel like I’m going crazy. I have to tell someone.” She drew away from him. “If you thought you were dreaming before, this is really going to make your head spin. Are you ready?”

“I’m still in shock,” he laughed. “You… you can really see me.”

She laughed. “Yeah, Sora. I can. And I’ve missed you so, so much.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He smiled, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear. His eyes caught on the pins, clipped to the collar of her shirt. “You really do wear them everywhere, don’t you?”

She reached up and touched them. “They’re a part of my soul now,” she said, seriously. “Sora… I’ve come back from the future.”

He blinked.

“I know. I know I say wild, crazy things all the time, and, and I mean them, but this time I mean it literally. I really, really did come back from the future. I’m twenty three, and I’m married, and I hate it so, so much Sora, oh god, you can’t imagine.”

“You’re… what?”

“Let me. Let me start at the beginning. This is all going to sound crazy, I know, but bear with me, alright?”

Slowly, he nodded. And Orihime told him the story, start to finish, of how she grew up in her timeline. The hours crept by without either of their notice, and by the time Orihime had finished her tale, it was three in the morning, and they’d both relocated to her bed, where they lay facing each other, both yawning and trying not to show it.

“And that’s that. I woke up this morning in my bed, here, and now here we are.”

He shook his head. He’d been doing a lot of that over the course of her speech.

“What do I do?”

“So this… Aizen… guy?”

She nodded.

“He’s going to, uh, send some other--what did you call them?”

“Hollows.”

“Hollows. He’s going to send some hollow to turn me into one of them?”

“Yes. Well Grand Fisher. He’s one of Aizen’s guys.”

“I’ve seen those things, you know. The monsters. I just never imagined that…”

She nodded. “I know. It’s a lot to take in.”

“But now that I know, we can stop it, right? You can see me now, it can be just like old times. I don’t need to sleep, so I can just stay in your living room. I can help with the cooking and the cleaning, and with your homework. Just like I wanted to, before I… before I…” he grew silent.

Orihime looked down at her hands, heart folding. “I wish you could stay here. But it’s not safe.”

“I could never attack you, Orihime! Knowing now--”

“Not for me, Sora. For you. It’s dangerous for souls to stay in the living realm. Sora, you know I want you to be with me. But this isn’t the only way people become hollows. I can’t always be there for you. What happens when I really do grow up, again, and I get married and move on? You can’t just keep looking for people who can see you, or, or rely on me. I’m not enough to be your whole life, Sora.”

“You’ve always been my whole life.”

“I shouldn’t have been,” she said. “Our parents shouldn’t have done that to you. You shouldn’t have had to be my dad and my brother, both at once.” She reached out, pushing his hair out of his face. He’d died young. Barely twenty-one. She was _older_ than him, she realized. “Sora. I love you so much. But you can’t stay here. You deserve your own life.”

He looked at her, lost.

“I know that after everything I’ve told you, soul society sounds like the last place anyone should go. But it really can be a new home. You’ll make family there. And--and Sora, I can get you into the academy!” She was excited, then, and she sat up. “Sora, then I really could come see you whenever I wanted. Last time, when you were exercised, you… I lost you. Hollows lose their memories, as a mercy, so they won’t have to be buried in guilt. But you’re still a plus soul. If you pass on now, you’ll get to keep everything, and you can become a soul reaper, even. You could come see me whenever you wanted. And I’d get to see you.”

“You really are from the future. Aren’t you?”

She blinked at him. “Huh?”

“You’ve grown up, Hime.” He reached out and gently cuffed her on the side of the head. “What happened to the little girl I remember?”

Orihime’s smile faded, slightly. “She’s still in here.” she held a hand over her heart. “Somewhere.”

Sora searched her face. “Orihime… what are you going to do about Aizen?”

She looked over to her backpack, where the notebook was waiting. “What I have to.”

“You’re not a killer,” he said. “You never have been, never will be.”

She ached. Truly, she did. But what was she to do? “For my friends, Sora? I would be a killer. I have been.” She looked back at him, sure that her sorrow was reflected in her eyes. She made no effort to conceal it. “I’ll do what has to be done. And at the end of all this, I hope… I hope Aizen does die. I mean it Sora.” She shuddered, just thinking about his cold smirk. “He’s evil, Sora. He’s evil.”

Sora watched her. “How can I help?”

She blinked back to reality, visions of Aizen’s smirk fading from view. “You can help me by passing on. Knowing you’re out there, safe? And ready for me to come home to? That’s everything to me. Before, I had nothing.”

“And now?”

“I’m coming out of this one with my friends and family intact,” she promised him. “And maybe, if I’m extra careful, I’ll come out of it with the little girl you remember, too. A little older, a little wiser, and a little sadder, but there all the same.”

He nodded at her. Looking over, he spied the clock. “But for now,” he said, and stood, hands on his hips. “It’s way past your bedtime.”

She laughed. “You’re not the boss of me anymore!”

“I sure am,” he said. “Bedtime, Orihime. Teeth brushed, pjs on, and tuck in. Five minutes.”

Senselessly, she giggled, jumping up to do as he said. She brushed her teeth and changed out of her dinner-stained t shirt, jumping back into bed, where Sora was waiting. He tucked her in, just like he used to, while she threw back her head and laughed herself hoarse. At the end of it all, he rubbed her head and then planted a loud, wet kiss on her forehead.

“You know,” she said, “technically _I_ ’m the big sister now.”

“I changed your diapers,” he said gravely. “You can’t undo that.”

“Ew!” She laughed again, pushing him away from her. “Don’t say that!”

“It’s true.” He smiled at her. “... I’m so glad I get to see you again. You’ve got no idea how lonely it’s been, all these years.”

She did know. But she didn’t want him to feel like he’d failed her. So she said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t see you before. And I’m sorry you had to be alone. But you don’t, now. You get to move on.”

He nodded. “Yeah. You and me both, it sounds like.”

“I hope,” she told him, with a sigh. “See you in the morning?”

“Three hours from now, yep. When you have to be up for school.”

She groaned. “High school sucks!”

“I bet finishing it twice sucks, but at least you get to. I dropped out second year.”

“I dropped out in fourth,” she muttered.

“Orihime!”

“I’m sorry! It was complicated. I’ll finish this time for sure, I promise!”

“You better.” He gave her the eye. “Or I’ll come back and haunt you.”

“How spooky,” she sang.

“Go to bed,” he said from her doorway. “Or else I’ll rattle my ghost chains.”

She rolled her eyes. “Aye, aye, Captain Ghost Bro.”

“Horrible. Absolutely horrible. I raised you to be funnier than this.”

“Nope. This is one hundred percent, organic, home-grown Inoue humor. All your fault, face facts and accept it.” She lowered herself into her bed further as he laughed, leaving her doorway. “Don’t get turned into a hollow while I’m sleeping!”

“I won’t!” He yelled back. “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight!” She yelled back. She closed her eyes, fighting off a smile.

Yeah. Things were going to go better this time around. She could feel it.

 


	3. Of all the comrades that e'er I had

Morning came all too soon. Orihime woke to the old dinging of her alarm clock, which she turned off with a glare and a quick slap of her hand. She’d barely slept and now she was going to have to brave day two of being thrown eight years into the past. Today was when things really started, if she remembered right. Tonight, Ichigo would be attacked by a hollow, and Rukia would enter his life, changing their destinies forever.

“Maybe this time,” she muttered as she rose to begin getting ready, “They’ll marry people they actually want to be married to.” Bitter? Her, Orihime, ray of sunshine personified? Never! You try being married to a guy who does a double-take every time a short woman with a black bob walks by. Funny, maybe, the first three or four times, in a sour sort of way, but seeing that they lived in Japan, the frequency with which a woman who looked just the slightest bit like Rukia walked by was far too often, and the humor faded fast. She was surprised he hadn't gotten whiplash with how often his head spun around to double-check a face.

She quickly brushed her hair and got dressed, forgoing covering up her dark bags with makeup. She’d given up makeup when she’d turned twenty-two, only putting it on for special events, when she wanted to feel shining. Using it to disguise her humanness wasn’t in the cards.

She caught a look at the clock as she secured her hairpins to her lapel and cursed beneath her breath. Not only was she going to have to skip breakfast, she wasn’t going to have time to make a lunch, having forgotten to the night before. She didn’t have the money to be buying lunch, plain and simple. She’d gone longer without food, but it was going to suck waiting until dinner to eat when she was already hungry and tired. What she wouldn’t give for a tall mug of hot coffee.

Orihime burst out of her room and into the living room. “Sorra, I--” whatever she had been about to say, it died on her tongue. She stared at her living room in wonder.

He’d cleaned. Everything was neatly tucked away and cleaned to shine, and across the way, her brother sat at the table, where breakfast was laid out next to a packed lunch. He was smiling wide and eagerly.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Sora,” she gasped. She moved to the table. “You did this for me?”

“You see anyone else standing around here?” He joked.

She laughed and fell down next to him, giving him a tight hug. “Thank you so much! I thought I was going to have starve all day. Digging in!” She clapped her hands together once before she started in on the eggs and rice with gusto. Admittedly, she had forgotten that he was a good cook. It made her heart swell.

The doorknob jiggled. Orihime turned in time to watch Tatsuki let herself in, key in hand. Tatsuki had a key to her apartment? Wow, she’d forgotten about that. Well, it explained how she’d gotten in the day before.

“Ready to--oh, wow, you cooked. And it… looks… good?” She was clearly baffled.

Orihime looked over at Sora with a wide gesture, about to say that no, she had not cooked, her wonderful brother had. Then she remembered he was a ghost, that Tatsuki couldn’t see him, and that if she mentioned him Tatsuki really would think she’d lost it.

“It’s delicious,” she said, winking at Sora. She turned back to Tatsuki. “I’m almost done. Gimme a second, we can jog to school.”

Tatsuki said, “But you hate jogging.”

Well that was true no matter what time period you plucked Orihime from. “It’s okay, I’m used to it.” Or, rather, she had been. Though she never lost her pleasant plumpness, she certainly built muscle beneath it in the future.

“Uh, sure.”

Orihime shoveled the rest of her breakfast down while Tatsuki stepped into the apartment, waiting. She looked around in interest before saying, “You cleaned.”

Orihime used her stuffed mouth as a reason to not reply. She didn’t want to take credit for Sora’s hard work. She smiled at him around a huge bite of food and finally finished off her breakfast, rising to put the dish in the sink.

“I’ve got it,” Sora said. “You get to school. I don’t have much else to do, after all.”

“Thanks, you’re the best.”

Tatsuki laughed. “What, for noticing you cleaned?”

Oops. “Yep!” She wanted to hug Sora before she left for school, but she knew it would look weird to Tatsuki, so she settled for quickly reaching out and squeezing his hand. She mouthed ‘love you’ and then turned to the door.

“Have a good day at school!” Sora said behind her.

She truly hated to not reply, so while Tatsuki started for the door, Orihime quickly turned and made a heart at him with her hands.

“Orihime, let’s go,” Tatsuki said.

“Right.” Lunch in hand, she put her shoes on and started out of the apartment, locking it behind her. Just knowing Sora was happy and home, in a way, washed away her sleepless irritation at the morning. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and her dead brother would be happy to watch TV in her apartment.

They hurried to school in a brisk jog. Orihime felt herself lose her breath almost right away, but she pushed past the feeling. She was used to running breathless, unfortunately, and if she kept it up, she’d stop being breathless right away. After all, she was going to be doing a lot of running in the coming months.

They made it to school just before the bell rang. As usual, Ichigo’s protagonist ass was the last to class, just barely making the bell cut. Orihime smiled wide at him and Chad, waving a little before Oochi called class to attention.

Okay. So far, so good. No one suspected a thing about her, and she was going to carry out her plan flawlessly. Who the hell had decided to let Ichigo of all people take the reigns? He’d over-gelled his hair until he was nineteen damn years old.

She opened back up her notebook. There, at the top, was the agenda. KILL AIZEN.

She carried out the rest of her planning thus:

 

She hesitated on step six for a moment. Finally, she sucked in a breath and wrote it.

 _Step 6_ _save Ulquiorra_

Step seven was easy enough. Live happily ever after.

Seven steps to happiness. Seemed easy enough. And in the meantime, all she had to do was make sure that no one got killed, somehow get her brother to soul society, stop the world from ending, and get good grades. All while on a budget. You go, Orihime.

The lunch bell finally rang. Orihime grinned and hopped to her feet, rushing past Tatsuki and up to the front of the classroom, where it appeared that that Uryuu was indeed preparing for her to swoop in and scalp him.

“Rooftop lunch time,” she told him.

“While I appreciate the gesture, I truly do prefer to eat alone--”

She put her hands on top of his desk and leaned in, so close that she could see the silver of her irises reflected in his glasses. “I will drag you up there, Uryuu. Do not doubt me.”

He swallowed. “R-right.”

Tatsuki had waited for Orihime at the door. Together, they started up towards the roof, just after Ichigo’s posse. Orihime realized, yet again, she was using first names for everyone and reminded herself silently to chill out a little bit. She was supposed to be shy.

Up on the roof, Ichigo had taken up his usual tough guy scowl. Orihime immediately felt the urge to fight with him. A few years of him making that face every time she asked him to please move his clean shirts from off the back of the chair and into the closet where they belonged had installed an instant reaction within her. She soothed herself gently, assuring herself that she would never have to deal with his laundry again.

That sparked a half-memory-half-daydream.

He’d been washing the dishes, in her apartment, while she cleaned off the table. They’d just finished having dinner together. He’d been quiet most of the evening, but she didn’t mind. They were good friends, after all, and she understood that sometimes he just didn’t have it in him to talk.

And then he’d said, “Inoue,” over his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“We should get married.”

And she’d said, “Um…”

He didn’t turn to look at her, concentrating on the dishes.

And then she’d said, “Okay. Yeah. Let’s do it.”

In her daydream, though, she dropped the rag she’d been using to wipe the table and doubled over laughing. “What?” She cried, hysterically. “What kinda wacko proposes like that? Hell no!” and then she left to treat herself to a milkshake and fries.

“-me. Orihime!”

She jerked back into reality. “What? Yes! I’m here!”

“Daydreaming again,” Tatsuki said fondly, laughing. “What was it this time? Robots? Aliens? Vampires?”

 _The sweet, succulent sound of divorce papers hitting Ichigo in the face?_ “Oh. Just romance and stuff.” _Ichigo laughing with relief when I tell him I don’t love him after all? Us, happily pawning off our wedding rings and never looking back?_ “Sweet romance!”

Speaking of her ex-husband to be. He was already arguing with Uryuu over something. Perfect, then, their friendship was right on track. She just had to make sure Uryuu didn’t go skulking around at night stalking Ichigo, growing more bitter with every day. That wouldn't be too hard. He had a crush on her, right? Maybe she’d start dating him or something.

Wait. She was trying to avoid an emotionally detached relationship this go-around. No more getting with people just to make them happy, this time was about her. Right. She’d just do some old fashioned espionage or something. If she could take out hollows before Uryuu, he’d have no reason to be suspicious anyway. She’d leave the one that was going to attack Ichigo either that night or some time in the week, of course, and then just… quietly take care of the others. Uryuu was good, but he was eight years too late to beat Orihime to the punch in anything at all.

Speaking of…

“I’ve got to go to the bathroom!” She declared. She’d already eaten most of her lunch (thank you Sora!) and so she chose to abandon the rest before Uryuu got wind of the hollow closing in on their location. She was lucky she’d been thinking about it--with Ichigo leaking spiritual pressure all over the place all the time, it was impossible to sort through what was him and what was coming from elsewhere.

She hurried down from the roof and out of the school, sneaking past teachers and students alike. It wasn’t hard to get out of the schoolyard and out onto the road, where, sure enough, there was a hollow slowly making its way down the road. Uryuu must have taken care of it the first time around. She could understand his distaste for Ichigo; Uryuu had probably thought that he was a huge danger to everyone in the school, and being alone, probably resented him just a little for it. Not that he was wrong, but he didn’t know that Ichigo was going to inevitably save the world a few times. She’d accuse him of having a hero-complex, but that would beg the question of what SHE thought she was doing, rewriting time, and she wasn’t in the mood for a heavy bout of introspection, thank you very much.

“Okay,” she said, and walked up to the hollow. Her fairies were still sleeping, but she’d figured out she could borrow power from them and herself and divest it to one or two of them, so that while the others slept, one could awaken. She did as much for Tsubaki, draining a bit of her energy and borrowing what the others had stored up to call him out of her hairpins.

The hollow never saw it coming. She figured laying low was the best option for the moment, as she didn’t want to draw attention from any third parties--hollow or shinigami. As soon as the hollow dissolved into light, she recalled a very sluggish Tsubaki to her hairpins, and feeling absolutely wrung out, she turned back to the school.

She spent the rest of the day in a fog, reminding herself that she was only a few short hours from being able to go home and crawl right back into bed. Tatsuki noticed, as did a few other people, but Orihime didn’t really care. She went through the motions until finally, blessedly, they were released.

Tatsuki found her right away. “Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

“I stayed up all night watching Sailor Moon,” she lied.

“Again? Orihime, you’ve got to take better care of yourself!”

“I know, I know. Sorry, Tatsuki.”

“Here.” Tatsuki pulled Orihime’s lunchbox out of her backpack. “You left this up on the roof. I can’t be too mad about you not taking care of yourself, your lunch actually looked pretty good today.”

Orihime took it back with a hum. “Thank you very much.”

“Any time… Orihime, can I ask you something?”

Uh oh. “Always! We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Y-yeah. Um, I was wondering… why do you want to sit up with Ichigo all the sudden? And why did you bring Ishida into it, too? All they did was fight all lunch.”

“That’s good!” She said.

“What?”

“That’s how Ichigo makes friends, I think.” She wasn’t all the way sure. He seemed to just find people who wanted to kill him and then either became their friend, their enemy, or their paramore. She had yet to identify what factors tipped the scales from one side to the other, but she was confident Ishida would come out on the friend side.

“That explains a lot,” she huffed. Then, “So, when did you get to know Ichigo? I thought you two had barely talked before.”

Oh yeah. Oops. “We haven’t really talked,” she said. “Um, I just… get a feeling about him.”

“You like him, don’t you?”

What to say to that? Did she bust up laughing and insist no, no, of course she didn’t, or did she play her old self and dreamily begin a story of their future together as the queen and king of robot-ruled Mars?

She looked over at Tatsuki, who was eyeing her carefully.

Option three, then.

“I think I’m bisexual,” Orihime blurted. She didn’t ‘think’ she was bisexual, she knew it. But then, her fifteen year old self had only been beginning to suspect it, so it was best not to act too confident. What kind of kid had a stark realization all the sudden and just… stuck with it confidently? Not her.

Tatsuki stopped walking.

Orihime turned around. “Well?”

Tatsuki looked at her for a long time. She chewed on her bottom lip and then said, “Me too.” Then she shook her head. “No, I. I’m not bi. I. I think…” She grabbed her arm and looked away, awkwardly. “I think… I think maybe I just like girls.”

“You’re a lesbian,” Orihime said easily.

Tatsuki stared at the pavement, face bright red. She nodded, almost seeming ashamed.

“Cool,” Orihime said. “Lesbians are really cool.”

Tatsuki looked up, unsure. “You… you think?”

“I know,” Orihime laughed. She started walking again. “Every lesbian is cool. Like Haruka and Michiru.”

Tatsuki hurried to catch up to her. “So you really don’t mind?”

“Why would I, silly? I’m the same way, aren’t I?”

“How did you know?”

“Hm?”

“How did you know that you liked girls?”

Orihime smiled, gently. “I don’t know. I just…”

“Have you ever.” Tatsuki paused, uncomfortably. She leaned in to whisper in Orihime’s ear. “Have you ever kissed a girl?”  
“Yes,” she said.

“What!?” Tatsuki ran around her and started walking backwards, so that they could speak face-to-face. “Who? Do I know her? Tell me!”

Orihime laughed. “You don’t know her,” she promised. No one did, yet. She’d be along soon enough, if everything went according to plan.

“What was it like?” Tatsuki asked.

“Peachy,” Orihime said. “Like the flavor.” She didn’t know how else to describe it.

“You’re so weird,” Tatsuki laughed.

Orihime stuck her tongue out.

They reached her apartment then. “Well, this is me.”

“Yeah,” Tatsuki looked up at her door. “Orihime?”

She paused on the stairs. “Yes?”

“Thanks. For telling me, I mean. It’s uh. It’s good to know I’m not the only one.”

Orihime smiled wide. “You’re never alone Tatsuki,” she promised. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Tatsuki said. “Tomorrow.”

 

~(o0o)~

It was the middle of May when it finally happened. Orihime had just showered and changed into her pajamas when she stopped in her tracks, arrested by a sudden sensation. The air about her felt heavy, almost wet, almost sticky. She could feel a pressure in her chest, and the hair on her arms was standing on end.

“So it’s here,” she whispered.

The beginning of it all. Ichigo was about to become a shinigami.

Quietly, Orihime slipped out of bed and to her window, which she carefully opened and climbed out of. Like the shinigami, she used her spiritual pressure to make platforms to walk on in the air, and began a run towards the clinic. Rukia had arrived, she could feel it.

Kurosaki clinic was not too far from where she lived. She moved quickly, ignoring the burn in her gut and legs and she hurried there. By the time she arrived, Rukia had already engaged the hollow. Orihime hid nearby, watching. She’d already changed the timeline, so she wanted to be sure nothing went awry.

It was odd to feel Ichigo’s spiritual pressure before he’d become partially hollow. There was something water-like about it, something almost airy. She’d never felt it before, and most likely, would only get to experience it for a short time before it was changed forever.

“If it’s me you want, come and get it!” Ichigo yelled.

She watched with wide eyes as Rukia took the hit intended for Ichigo. That was a lot of blood. Poor, poor Rukia. She’d never wanted anything more than to be a good shinigami, and she was saddled with a destiny far greater than that.

She didn’t watch as they decided on the exchange of power. This was a private moment; the exchange of true names. She turned and hunkered down, waiting for everything to be over.

There was a burst of power strong enough to knock the wind out of her chest. Orihime slumped against the back of the car and focused on breathing. Ichigo’s spiritual pressure unnerved her with its alienness, despite lacking any trace of hollow energy.

She paused, for a moment, thinking. If she wanted, she could make sure he never had a hollow to begin with. She could carefully ensure he never had to deal with that side of him taking over, or adding a bloodlust to his battles, or consuming him.

She’d never scream at the mindless beast rising from the sands, intent on killing them all.

She shuddered. No. As much as she wanted to, as much good as it might have done, there were just too many battles to come that Ichigo would have very likely lost without his hollow. And as much as she hated that part of him, the hollow was an entity itself, and she would do no harm against him, either.

The ground shuddered as the massive hollow’s arm crashed to the ground. Again, as the creature’s severed leg fell. Ichigo screamed, “feel the wrath of my blade!” And just like that, it was over. A tiny, seconds long fight. And there was no going back.

She dared a look at Rukia, pale in her white robes, bathed in moonlight, her arm dripping blood. Rukia looked astounded, awed as she stared at Ichigo. And Ichigo.

Well. He was still just a boy.

She left the scene as soon as Ichigo went running back to Rukia. Over and over, he asked her if she was okay, what he could do. Ichigo’s genuine care over her had been there, right from the start. She understood, in a way.

Quietly, she made her way back to her apartment, and into her room. She slept well that night, knowing that the week to come would be tenuous.

~(o0o)~

“You’re quiet.” Tatsuki noticed.

Orihime looked up at her. They were nearly at the school, and admittedly, she’d hardly said a word since they’d left. She’d thanked Sora and hugged him before stepping out onto the porch to wait for Tatsuki, and after saying hello to her friend, had fallen silent.

“Just daydreaming,” she said. “Aliens, this time.”

“Classic,” Tatsuki chuckled. “Hey, watch out. Black cat, bad luck.”

Orihime looked up and spotted Yoruichi. She barely resisted the urge to wave. “Not her,” she said, to Tatsuki. “That cat’s a lucky lady.”

“Sure she is.”

Orihime watched as Yoruichi slipped into the courtyard, evidently following someone. Up ahead, she spotted her; dressed in their uniform, hands linked neatly behind her back as she walked. Rukia Kuchiki.

“Who’s that?” Tatsuki asked, spotting her too.

“She must be a transfer,” Orihime said. It took everything in her to remain by Tatsuki’s side. She’d missed Rukia like nothing else, and all she wanted to do was run up and hug the woman. She told herself to relax, and continued into the school, watching while Rukia introduced herself to Ichigo and nearly made him faint.

It was hard. She knew these people, but they didn’t know her.

She sat through class silently, working ahead on her homework. Her aunt wouldn’t send her money if she didn’t make good grades, and even though Orihime had started up her house-wife dress sewing and selling like she had been before, it wasn’t enough to cover the bills.

She looked over at Rukia from the corner of her eye. Unaging, even Rukia looked younger, somehow. Less harried by the tides of war, she supposed. She reminded herself that she wouldn’t always have to keep her distance. Soon, she’d enter into the fold, and she’d have her friends close once again.

All she had to do was keep things on track. She reviewed her notebook again, this time, her neatly put together timeline, updated to include Ichigo’s powers.

May 22nd, Ichigo gets powers

May 23rd, meet Rukia at school

June 3rd, Sora hollow (not happening this time!)

June 17th, Grand Fisher

July 18th, Menos (make this happen or no?)

July 19th, Rukia kidnapped :(

July 20th, Last day of school!!!

August 1st, Fireworks festival

August 8th, go to soul society

Pass through time anomaly

August 1st again, arrive in soul society

2nd, kukaku

3rd, enter gotie 13, got split up last time

4th, ????

5th, aizen fakes his stupid DEATh so fix that before that happens

6th, Rukia’s execution

August 13th, go home

It was simple enough. Until around the seventeenth, everything was a waiting game. The one thing she did have to do before then was keep an eye on Rukia and make sure she hadn’t gotten the second body yet. She knew she’d never be able to just take the hogyoku from Kisuke, so she had to wait until he had it ready in Rukia’s second gigai, and then destroy it before Rukia put the body on.

Otherwise she’d have to let Aizen’s plan carry itself out, and she really, really didn’t want to let that happen. The sooner Aizen was dead, the sooner she would know peace. Even just knowing he was alive out there, ruining innocent lives, filled her with a benevolent rage.

Soon. Soon things would fall into place, and her plans could finally begin.


	4. And all I’ve done for want of wit

Orihime shuffled the card deck for the third time and started to deal between herself and Sora. She’d not been looking forward to the conversation they were about to have, but she had to be reasonable. Grand Fisher would seek Sora’s soul out soon enough, no matter how happy he was, and turn him into a hollow. She had to act before then.

She’d already put it off with two games of Go. She had to face facts. It was time.

“Tomorrow, Rukia will begin Ichigo’s soul reaper training.”

Sora looked up from his cards. “Yeah. Who are they again?”

“Don’t make me get out my drawings again.”

“They’re so good, though!”

She snorted on a laugh. “Okay, okay. Ichigo is the orange haired one, and Rukia is the black hair with bunny ears.”

“Oh! Oh, right. Okay.”

“She’s going to teach him how to perform the conso.”

“The… passing on thing?”

She nodded.

Sora looked down at his cards. “Hmm.”

“They’re going to find a soul to send to soul society.”

“Interesting.”

She bit her lip. “Sora… I think it should be you.”

He sighed. Setting down his cards, he leaned back on his hands, saying, “Yeah, I could tell what you were getting at. I just. I don’t know. I finally have a life again, you know? I’m happy here. I don’t know if I really want to go to some soul society. From what you’ve told me, it sounds like they’ve got a lot of issues that, frankly, I don’t want to get involved in. Can’t I just stay here and cook and clean for you?”

“Grand Fisher _is_ coming, Sora.” She sorted her cards by value and suite. “I can’t protect you when I’m at school, and you can’t come with me because Ichigo and Rukia will see you and know something’s up with me too early. I don’t know what that will do to the timeline.”

“I’ll be careful until Grand Fisher is dead. I promise.”

“Even if I was okay with that, what would happen to you when I go to Hueco Mundo? Sora, I’m there for an entire month before the others come to get me.”

“Which, by the way, is… unacceptable. I think you should change that.”

“I can’t,” she said. “I’ll need time to sway Ulquiorra to my side.”

“Why do you need him?”

She fidgeted under his stare. “I just… do.”

He shrugged. “Okay. But by then your friends will know about you! I can stay with them. You don’t have to worry about me, Orihime. I’m the big brother. I can take care of myself. I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.”

“You did,” she said. “You have been. All my life you’ve been taking care of me. But Sora, you can’t take care of me if you get yourself killed again.”

He glared at the ceiling.

“When the war is over, you can come back,” she promised, gently. “Even if they don’t let you, I’ll smuggle you here myself. I promise. But until then, please. This is the only way. I can’t do what has to be done if I’ve got something to lose, and as long as you’re here with me, I do.”

He sat silently, for a minute.

“I’m sorry, Sora.”

He dragged a hand down his face. “No. Don’t be sorry. I know this is how it has to happen. I just… wish I could be here for you. From everything you’ve told me, it sounds like these next couple of months are going to be really hard for you. And I just wish I was here to make it easier on you. You know? I’ve missed you, Hime. And I don’t want us to be separated when I can finally be your brother again.”

“I know,” she said, gently. “I promise, this won’t be goodbye.”

“I trust you,” he said.

“So then you’ll do it?”

He nodded. “Tomorrow, we can find them. I’ll let them perform the conso.”

She let out a breath. “Thank you, Sora.”

He smiled at her, albeit sadly. “Anything for my bratty little sister.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Nyeh.”

He stuck his out right back. “Nyeh.”

They stayed up all night playing Go and other games, watching movies, eating junk food. Orihime told Sora about Soul Society, and the academy, and what to expect. He taught her how to file her taxes. They gossiped and chatted and laughed, and when morning finally came, Orihime tearfully hugged her brother goodbye and then lead him out to the park where Ichigo and Rukia had used to train early in the morning. She hid, waiting. It didn’t take long.

“Look, see! Right here, a lost soul. You will perform the conso, Ichigo.”

“For crying out loud, can’t you? You know I’m not good at this stuff!”

“Just do it, idiot.”

“Fine! But not because you told me. I want to, okay?”

Rukia gave Sora the speil, Ichigo stamped his forehead, and just like that, he was off. Orihime held a hand over her mouth to silence her gentle crying, watching as Sora faded to blue, a butterfly blooming in his body’s wake. She felt it the moment his soul departed, and rocked herself back and forth in place, waiting for the crying to cease.

She was really alone, then. No one else knew who she was, where she came from.

She waited until Ichigo and Rukia had left the park to make her escape. It was for the best, she told herself, and knew it was true. She would see him again soon. That didn’t make it hurt any less, though, and so she went home and quietly cried herself to sleep, to dream of a better future yet to come.

~(o0o)~

 

She knew what the bird was the second Chad presented it to their group during lunch.

What sort of cruel being would stuff a child’s soul in a parakeet, she didn’t know, but she wasn’t going to stand idly by and let the poor boy suffer. She hated to trick anyone, Chad most of all, but she promptly burst into tears upon hearing him speak, mentally patting herself on the back for her acting skills. It helped that she’d been in a mood all week, admittedly, but that was besides the point.

“Whoa, Orihime, are you okay?” Tatsuki wrapped her arm around Orihime’s shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“H-he j-j-just reminds m-me of Sora!” She bawled.

Everyone shifted uncomfortably.

“Who?” Rukia whispered.

“Her brother,” Ichigo said. “He died a while back…”

Chad said, “I’ll leave.”

“N-no!” Orihime reached out, grabbing his arm. “P-please, I’m sorry Chad, I just…” she sniffed dramatically. “I’m so lonely in my apartment, but I can’t afford to buy any pets, and, and I just miss my brother and he-he reminds me of him.” She cranked up the water works.

Everyone shared a look. Orihime pretended not to notice.

“Do you want him?” Chad asked, gently.

Orihime blinked hear tears away. “You… you would do that?” She sniffed. “For me?”

He nodded.

She launched herself at him, hugging him with all her strength. It was starting to come back to her, now. She remembered the hollow who had used the little boy in the bird as bait. She’d wait and see if Ichigo and Rukia took care of it before she stepped up to the plate, but until then, the boy wouldn’t have to suffer a moment longer.

As soon as lunch was over, she took the parakeet home, deciding to skip the second half of the day. The bird tittered nervously the entire way back to her apartment, but Orihime stayed sharp. There were no hollows nearby. Not yet.

“Okay.” She locked the door and put the cage on the table, and then turned to the little bird. “I’m sorry for the theatrics. What’s your name?”

“... Yuichi.”

She smiled and sat down, reaching out to open the door to the birdcage. “Yuichi. That’s a very handsome name. You can come out, if you want. I know you’re not really a bird.”

He chirped nervously.

“It’s okay,” Orihime smiled and gently reached her hand out. “I won’t hurt you. That nasty hollow won’t, either, while I’m here.”

“You… you know?”

She nodded, continuing to hold her hand out.

He hopped out onto her outstretched fingers.

Gently, Orihime drew the boy to her chest, holding him and hugging him both at once, delicate with him in every sense of the word. “I know it’s been hard for you, Yuichi. What that man did to you was a terrible thing, and using you all these years was cruel of him.”

“He… he’s not using me,” Yuichi said. “I have to do it. To see my momma.”

She bit her lip. “Yuichi, I’m so sorry. He doesn’t have your mother. He doesn’t know where she is at all.”

“He… he what?”

She shook her head. “He lied to you. It’s not your fault. He’s very tricky. But it was a lie.”

“Then where is she?”

“She’s in Soul Society.”

“Can I go there?”

She nodded.

“Will… will he follow me?”

“No,” she shook her head. “He won’t. He’s never going to bother you again, I promise.” Carefully, she set him down on the table. “Yuichi, how did you get to be in this body?”

“He put me in here. He pulled me out of my body.”

“So you’re a live soul.” She bit her lip. “I thought so. Yuichi, you have a very hard choice to make. I know you’re just a kid, but I can’t make this choice for you. Are you listening?”

“Yes.”

“Your mother died. I’m very sorry, and I know that must be hard to hear, but she passed away. If you go to Soul Society, you’ll die to. It’s not like they say. It’s not forever, and it’s not scary, but you won’t be here anymore. It’s like… another planet.”

“Another planet?”

“Exactly. And you can go there, if you want. I won’t stop you. But if you want to stay here, in the land of the living, I can put you back to the way you used to be. Do you have other family you would go and live with?”

“My Papa.”

She nodded. “So Yuichi, you have to decide. Do you want to stay here, and grow up? Or do you want to pass on to the soul society?”

He seemed to think for a minute. “I don’t know,” he said. “What should I do?”

“I can’t tell you what to do,” she said.

“What is soul society like?”

“It’s… it’s like olden times. Everyone wears kimono and yakuta. And there’s samuri and swords all over the place. But you’ll never get hungry, and never grow old, or get sick.” Unless you have spiritual pressure, of course, but that was a lesson for another day.

“And if I stay here, I’ll be in my body again?”

She nodded.

“I didn’t get my birthday party,” he said. “I would get lots of birthday parties if I stayed here, right? And then… and then when I grow up, I will get to see mommy again. Right?”

“Yes,” she said.

“I don’t want to leave her alone.”

“She’s not alone, Yuichi. I promise.”

“And she’s really okay?”

“She is.”

“Will… will she be mad if I stay here?”

“I don’t think so. She protected you, didn’t she? She wanted you to keep on living.”

“Oh…” He thought for a moment more. “Can I… Can I stay here? With Papa?”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes. But what if the bad man comes again?”

“He won’t. I promise you that, Yuichi. He won’t.”

“Okay.”

“There’s one more thing,” she said.

“What is it?”

“When I heal you, it will be like sending you back in time. Your soul will have a new body, and you won’t remember anything that happened when you were in the parakeet. Is that okay?”

“I’ll forget?”

“Yes.”

“... Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” he said. “I want to stay here. In my person body.”

She smiled. Gently, she held him again, hugging his little body. His heart fluttered rapidly. “Okay. You’ll fall asleep, so don’t be scared. When you wake up, everything will be alright again. I promise.”

“Okay,” he said, voice small.

“Okay.” She set him on her lap. “Shun Shun Rika,” she said. “I reject.”

~(o0o)~

 

Orihime returned a few hours later after escorting a very confused little boy to the police station. She waited with him until his crying grandfather showed up to take the boy home, praising her the whole time for having found him. The man had assumed the worst, and so soon after losing his daughter, too. She smiled and wished him well, and then went back home.

The parakeet was nothing special without Yuichi’s soul in it. She’d made sure to put it back in the cage, and it sat happily chirping on its swing when she came back inside.

“Well,” she sighed, sitting to observe it. “I guess I have a pet now. No clue how I’m going to afford to feed you, little guy, but I suppose we’ll manage.”

There was a knock at the door.

Orihime knew it was Ichigo and Rukia the second she opened her senses. Quickly, she answered the door, smiling pleasantly.

“Kuchiki-san, Kurosaki-san! What a surprise.”

They both looked like utter wrecks. Ichigo’s hair was singed, and Rukia’s shirt was torn. Both were burned and bruised and dirty. Clearly, they’d taken care of the hollow they’d been after. And they hadn’t even needed the bird this time around, good for them.

“Hi, Inoue,” Ichigo said awkwardly. “Um. We came to ask you something.”

She waited.

Ichigo ‘discreetly’ elbowed Rukia.

“Um, yes!” She piped up. “Sado, uh. He is very sorry but he misses the bird.”

“The bird?” She blinked, playing stupid. “Oh! Sado wants him back?”

“Yes!” Ichigo blurted. “Really badly!”

“Oh. Well… I know I was so emotional earlier, but I think actually it’s okay. It’s that time of the month.” She shrugged as they both blanched. “I can’t believe I was so selfish to steal Chad’s pet! Here, take him back.” She quickly retrieved the cage and eagerly shoved it into Ichigo’s arms.

Ichigo and Rukia smiled. They stared at the bird. Their smiles slipped.

“Ah… Inoue,” Rukia said. “Is this… the same bird?”

“Yep!” She smiled merrily at the both of them.

“You’re sure?” Ichigo managed.

“I don’t have any other birds to get him mixed up with.” She blinked. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Nope! Just fine, just fine, uh. We were making sure, is all. So.” Ichigo shifted from foot to foot. “He’ll sure be glad to get his pet back.”

“Very glad,” Rukia added unhelpfully.

“So very, very glad,” Ichigo finished.

Orihime just stared at them, smiling pleasantly.

“Welp.” Ichigo awkwardly turned away. “Guess we’ll go tell him the good news!”

“Okay,” she said. “Bye Kurosaki! Bye Kuchiki! See you tomorrow for school!” She closed the door as they began to argue, most likely about what the hell had happened to the bird. Orihime just rolled her eyes and quickly moved to slip out of her window and follow them, certain to mask her spiritual pressure, as usual.

She noticed, as she tailed them, that Rukia was walking stiffly. The battle must have been what triggered her need for the new gigai, she realized.

“You really think the bird was a lure?” Ichigo was saying.

“What other explanation is there? We sensed the soul earlier. Now he’s in Hell, and the parakeet is just a regular bird. The whole story was probably a fabrication to get us to keep him alive or keep chasing him. I’ve seen hollows do similar things before, and I can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone tear someone’s soul out and put it in an animal. It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“That must be why Inoue wanted it earlier and now she doesn’t. The lure has some sort of… empathy snare. Right? That’s why she was crying and everything.”

“Exactly! See, you’re catching on quick!” Rukia rotated her wrists. The movement was choppy. “You don’t make too bad a pupil.”

“Can’t say the same about your teachin--OW! What the hell, Rukia?”

“Oh, Ichigo, my foot slipped! I beg your pardon!”

“You little demon! I’m gonna kick your ass!”

Orihime had seen all she needed to. Rukia was going to go to Urahara soon, and when she did, Orihime would have to act fast. If only she could somehow monitor the shop without being noticed…

“Ayame,” she called, gently.

The fairy appeared before her. “Hi, Orihime!”

“I have a task for you… Think you can handle being far away from me for a while?”

“We can certainly try!”

“Good. Here’s what we have to do.”

~(o0o)~

 

The dojo was, as usual, too hot and humid. Tatsuki was wrestling with her partner while Orihime wrestled hers. She hadn’t been coming to the dojo long, but she figured it was the best way to get back in shape, and in a way, prepare her for what was to come.

She’d just stood to start her second round when Ayame returned to her.

“Rukia just arrived,” the fairy informed her. It had been roughly two days.

Orihime nodded. Ayama went back into her hairpin.

“Tatsuki, I’m gonna call it a night!” Orihime called.

Tatsuki was holding her partner at bay with her legs. “Already? If you wait, I’ll walk you home!”

“It’s not far, I can do it. Thank you though. See you tomorrow!” She ran out without another word.

The walk across town was long, but not unwelcome. She had to dodge Rukia about half way there, as the woman was heading back to the clinic. Orihime masked her spiritual pressure tighter and tighter the closer she got the Urahara shop. This was it.

The beginning of it all.

She moved slowly once she reached the shop. It was dark out, and they were closed, but the porch light stayed on, gathering swarms of moths. She was sure he had security cameras up, or hell butterflies painted into the shadows, and Yoruichi had a keen nose. It was imperative she proceeded with caution.

She slipped around the side of the shop and to the window to the supply room. She’d seen Kisuke’s lab, and hopefully, she would be able to slip into it. She lifted herself to the window and activated her shun shun rika, having Tsubaki slice through the lock on the window before recalling him to her hairpins.

She slid the window open and silently clamoured down into the supply room, which was dark and musty. Boxes lined the walkway and stacked all the way to the ceiling on a few shelves, some propped up precariously using stray two-by-fours. There was an odd smell about the place, not quite mold or mildew--something with a sweeter carry, almost like that of rotted fruit. She carefully slunk out onto the pathway, half-surprised when no alarm was raised.

Surely it wasn’t going to be this easy.

She had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. What did that mean, anyway? Like… the horse brought gifts? Why was a horse bringing gifts to anyone? Furthermore, why were the gifts in its mouth? Was it like Santa Clause? She imagined a horse wearing the red coat and a beard. Maybe it’s mouth was like Santa’s bag, and for some reason unlimited presents came from there. But then why weren’t you supposed to look down there? Was the void too much for the human mind to comprehend? Was there some secret magic that made the presents inside the horse’s mouth, and if you saw it, you could steal it, and then the horse would have to kill you? Is that how Santa got his powers to begin with?

 _Focus_ , she reminded herself. She’d reached the door to Kisuke’s lab.

Slowly, she crouched down and pressed her ear to the cold steel of the door, listening. She didn’t hear anything within, but she summoned Shun’o to be certain, and had him slip beneath the door.

He re-appeared a moment later. “All clear,” he informed her.

“Good job.” She accepted him back into her hairpin. “Tsubaki,” she summoned.

He sliced neatly through the lock, just as he had on the window. Orihime tensed, waiting for any sort of alarm, but there wasn’t so much as a creak as the door slid open. Inside, Kisuke’s lab was revealed, dark but for the light pouring off various screens and contraptions. Orihime crawled slowly inside on her hands and knees, looking around carefully. No one seemed to be about.

On a long metal table just within the laboratory was a pale, naked body. She knew it instantly to be Rukia’s, and mentally admonished Kisuke for leaving it out without clothing. She remembered the ridiculous top he’d forced her to wear on her return to Hueco Mundo and made a mental note to suplex him if he ever tried something like that again. Orihime was a pacifist, for the most part, but she’d come to feel that sometimes being nice was simply out of the question. Kill Aizen, suplex Kisuke… she was sure she’d come up with more along the way.

Rising up, she reached out and gently touched the skin of the gigia’s chest. It was cold and soft, eerily similar to a corpse. Orihime shivered and put the thought of out mind, concentrating on the task at hand.

“Shun shun rika,” she whispered. Her powers unfolded along her fingers. One petal on each finger and in her palm, she dug into the gigia’s flesh, careful but insistent. Inside, she could feel the marble. It hurt to touch, it was cold and hot both at once, and her heart began to race the second she came into contact with it. She pulled it out, slowly, looking around the room for the cube it had been kept in so that she wouldn’t have to hold it. When she failed to find the cube, she decided to simply get it over with.

It was time to destroy the hogyoku.

“Well, this is a surprise.”

Orihime’s eyes widened as her head jerked up. She turned her head to look behind her, revealing Kisuke standing slouched against the doorframe, Yoruichi at his feet.

“Most cat burglars go for the goods. Not the bodies. No value in fake organs, you know.” His eyes gleamed dangerously beneath the brim of his hat. “Now I don’t know how you knew that was there, but I think you better put that down.”

Orihime swallowed. She was powerful, but she knew she couldn’t take Kisuke and Yoruichi out, especially when they thought the hogyoku was on the line. Separate, they were menacing, but together? Unstoppable.

Orihime dropped the hogyoku back into the gigai’s chest. She let go of her powers, returning the hairpins to her collar. Swallowing, she said the first thing that came to mind. “You really shouldn’t leave Rukia’s body naked like that. Pervert.”

Kisuke looked at Yoruichi. “First time I’ve ever been admonished by a thief, eh, Yoruichi?”

“You may have created the hogyoku, but it doesn’t belong to you.” She swallowed. “Souls belong to noone, Kisuke Urahara.”

He stepped into the lab. The door shut behind him. “Curiouser by the minute. How is it that you know what that trinket is? And how do you know my name? I’ve been keeping tabs on you, Orihime Inoue, waiting to see if you would develop powers like Ichigo’s other friend. I thought maybe you wouldn’t. Now? I’m not so sure I didn’t miss something.”

Kisuke Urahara was a dangerous man. That was an indisputable fact. One could argue for or against the goodness of his character, but in the end, that didn’t really matter. It boiled down to him being dangerous. Full stop. Period. End of story.

She didn’t want to tangle with him. What was more, she didn’t want him to know the truth. Lying to a liar was difficult, especially when she wasn’t practiced, and what was more, she wasn’t sure he was above seedy methods to extract information. She had to be careful about what she revealed, and above all couldn’t show him that she was from an alternate future. He would try to take things into his own hands, and though he was a genius, Orihime had seen where his planning had lead them last time. Kisuke was a strategist, and yes, his methods of war did work. But Orihime was playing this little game of chess he’d started for keepsies. No pawns, no rooks, no kings of queens. She was leaving with all her players intact, black or white, and she wasn’t going to let anyone get in her way.

“You don’t know how to destroy the hogyoku,” she said.

He stared at her.

“You think it’s impossible. It’s not.” She swallowed. “You just have to return the souls its made up of to where they’re supposed to be, and it will crumble into nothingness.” At least, that’s what she’d theorized. She’d spent her month in Hueco Mundo last time around plotting how to destroy it, and she’d been pretty sure it would work by the time things had all gone south.

“Who are you really?”

“Orihime Inoue. I’m Ichigo’s friend. Just like you said.”

He nodded, considering. “And what was that glowing with your hands?”

She didn’t answer. Her eyes tracked Yoruichi as the cat circled around to the other side of the table. Great, they were planning to ambush her. She said, “Yoruichi, attacking me naked would be embarrassing for both of us. So um. If you could not do that…”

Kisuke and the black cat froze.

“More surprises from this one,” the cat said, her voice a deep masculine purr.

“We don’t have much time,” Orihime said. “Aizen has eyes everywhere. If you demand I tell you what I know, it could make all of our plans fall apart. And then people will die. You two act aloof, but I know you care about that. Just let me do what I came here to do, and then we can all act like this never happened.”  
“Counter point,” Kisuke said. “What if Aizen sent you and you’re taking that straight to him?”

“You really think a human girl can slip past you both?”

“You’ve already proved there’s more to you than meets the eye,” Yoruichi said. “I don’t like taking chances.”

Orihime grit her teeth. “Don’t make me fight you. That will only make this harder.” She didn’t care if she lost. As long as she destroyed the hogyoku, the rest would sort itself out somehow. But this? This was evil. She couldn’t allow it to continue to exist.

“You say that like you’ll win.”

“You won’t be able to touch me until I’m done,” she said with certainty. Deconstructing the hogyoku would put her fairies to sleep, and if she had to shield while she did it, she would probably pass out too. Then she’d be free game for Kisuke and Yoruichi.

She weighed her options. There was no way she could incapacitate them both, if she could even manage to down one of them. She was untouchable, sure, but she couldn't get away from them. She couldn’t outrun Yoruichi, and now that Kisuke had seen her face, there would be nowhere to hide, either.

Yoruichi shed her feline form. She rose on the other side of the table, naked and unabashed, amber eyes cold as flint. “Give us one good reason why we should trust you.”

“Because I’m the best chance you’ve got to beat Aizen,” she said. “And because I know you’re not the ones responsible for what happened to Shinji and the others.”

They shared a look, one which Orihime couldn’t read. For a tense minute, no one moved. Then, Kisuke inclined his head, just barely.

“One wrong move and I’ll have your head, girl,” Yoruichi warned.

Orihime took the empty threat in stride, knowing no one could lay a finger on her. She turned back to the gigai and summoned her rika again, pulling the hogyoku from the chest. It hummed between her palms as she cupped her fairies about it. She could… hear it. In her head. A dreadful, rumbling whisper, like a thousand choking voices, words too numerous to make out. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end while her body broke out in gooseflesh. She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat.

“Sotten Kisshun,” she commanded. “I reject.”

In principal, it was a simple thing. Her powers were time-based. The hogyoku, in itself, was only glass warped from thousands of tons of reishi. The souls and energy inside where placed there later, artificially. The souls knew they did not belong there, just as time did. It was as if the glass had been wounded, thousands of times over, bleeding power and horror, desperate to attach to flesh.

Undoing it was simple math, in a way. The practice, however, turned out to be much more horrifying.

She had barely begun when tears began pouring down her cheeks. Oh, god, the pain these souls had known. The sorrow, the fear, the hate. To exists always and never, as something and nothing, torn from emotion and body alike. There was nothing like it. The emotion bled into her heavily as bit by bit, she undid the harm that had been done to them. Her hands shook and her shields trembled. Her fairies cried, too, and Orihime felt worse still knowing she was the one doing this to them. They had to, though, or this pain would never end. She just had to keep going.

“It’s working,” Yoruichi breathed.

Kisuke almost sounded pained. “I don’t believe it.”

It hurt. That same sensation of fire and ice swept through her fingers and crept into her arms, her shoulders, her spine. It spread through her body like a virus, until she ached all over, unsure if the ice was so cold it burned, or if the fire was so hot it was giving her frostbite. Either way, it did not matter. She was built to endure. She bowed over her shields in pain, determined to remain standing, and grit her teeth against what was happening to her. The pain was not a sign of injury, this time, and so she would bear it, knowing that it would have its end one day. This body was young and unscarred. She could take it.

The colors in the glass began to fade, and slow their churning. Orihime almost couldn’t believe it was happening. Sweat poured down her face and stung her eyes as she cried, temporarily blinded by that point. The hogyuku called out to her with a sinner’s song, grasping for her soul with chilly hands. No mortal was meant to come into such close contact with it. She felt faint.

The war. She just had to remember the war. Remember the bodies, the graves, the grief. Her friends in the living world and soul society alike, never to be the same. Ichigo, especially, because somehow she did still love him--hand reached out into space, unseeing, face betraying that he could no longer see Rukia, and that he thought very clearly that he would never, ever know happiness again.

Orihime had come back in time just for this. She could do it. She had to.

A hairline fracture appeared in the glass, so small that for a second she was sure she was simply imagining it. But then the crack spread, and grew, pouring light from within. The glass began to break and divide as a scorching light appeared, growing brighter each passing millisecond.

Orihime felt it the moment the deed was done. The glass shattered, the light exploded, and finally, finally, the hogyoku was dead.

The building rumbled and the lights from Kisuke’s contraptions went out. Orihime fell to the floor with a scream, entire body shaking. Her pins appeared before her on the ground, fairies deeply sleeping. She swallowed and lifted her hands. They were bloody and filled with shards of glass.

“I did it,” she whispered.

Yoruichi was at her side, then. “Are you alive?”

Orihime turned over, blinking tiredly at the naked woman. Yoruichi reached a hand out. Orihime revealed her bloody palms.

“Kisuke,” Yoruichi called. “Get your med kit. Her hands are ruined.”

He appeared a moment later. Yoruichi helped Orihime set up, and Kisuke got to work on her hands. For a moment, the three of them were silent. Tessia suddenly appeared in the lab’s doorway.

“Uh, boss. Power went out.”

“Yeah,” Kisuke said. “I know.”

“Jinta and Uyuu are upset about their game.”

“Yeah.” Kisuke waved him away. “I’m busy. It’s bedtime.”

“... Alright. If you say so.” He disappeared.

“Kisuke,” Yoruichi admonished.

“We’ll tell him as soon as I’m done here.” He put some sort of pink slime on Orihime’s hands once he’d picked out all the glass. Her cuts began to seal over. “I can’t believe you did it. How did you know that it would work? It could have killed you.”

If she’d been as inexperienced as she had been the first time she’d thought to try it… it probably would have. “It had to work,” she said, firmly. She locked eyes with him. “You owe me.”

“What?”

“You owe me, Kisuke. I want you to erase all this from both your memories.”

They shared another look.

“I--”

“No.” She shook her head. She was tired, and she hurt all over, and she was done with all this bullshit. Tears of frustration started to slip down her cheeks. “You don’t get to tell me what you need! What’s best! I already did that! I did what was best for everyone last time, and I did it just now, and I’m tired! I’m tired of being the one who takes the fall, okay? You think I’m just the stupid girl who’s too nice for her own good and you think I can’t save anyone because I can’t save myself. Well you know what? This time I’m done being nice! You don’t get to tell me what I’m going to do, and you don’t get to do whatever the hell you want just because you think you’re smarter than me. I just destroyed the hogyoku! You’re going to erase me from your minds or so help me, Kisuke Urahara, I will make you wish you’d never seen it to begin with!”

They stared at her.

Kisuke let out a small chuckle. “I was going to say I’ll go get a memory chikan.”

Chest heaving, Orihime glared. “No you weren’t!” She cried. “Don’t _lie_ to me!”

He regarded her for a moment more. “Alright,” he said, finally, and stood. “I’ll do it now, though.”

She struggled to stand, swaying on her feet. “You’re still lying!” She yelled. “I know you’re planning on leaving clues so you can un-do it! I don’t want you to find me when this is done. I just want to be left alone for once in my life!”

He gave her a hard look.

“You can’t expect us to forget this,” Yoruichi said softly. She rose, too, and went to stand by Kisuke. “This is too important. We may need you later--”

“I don’t care!” She cried. “You owe me this much! Peace, for once in my life!” When still they did nothing, Orihime swallowed. She snatched her pins off the floor. “I’ve never had to erase someone’s memories before,” she said with a shaky voice. “But I’ll do it if you won’t. And when I do it, there will be no getting them back. The only problem is that I might take other stuff, too. Do you want that? Do I have to-to-to threaten harm any time I want anything? Huh!?”

“I’ll do it,” he said.

She stared at him.

“I will.”

He wasn’t lying this time. He wasn’t. And yet. “What’s the catch?”

“Tell me how you knew.” He said. “I don’t like an unsolvable puzzle.” He moved to a nearby desk and began to rummage about. He produced a strange looking memory chikan a moment later, holding it up. “It won’t matter once I forget, but I have to know first.”

“Me too,” Yoruichi said.

Orihime leaned back against the table with the gigia on it. She sighed, dragging a shaky hand down her wet face. “I’m from the future,” she whispered. “My powers are the negation of time and reality. You guessed they were healing. You were wrong.”

He nodded. “Why did you come back? Did we lose?”

She looked up at him.

“Did we lose to Aizen?”

She shook her head.

“Then what?”

“I promised you one answer,” she reminded him.

“One more. One more and I promise, I’ll erase this night and your face and name from our memories. For good.”

She sighed. “Alright…” She looked away from him. “It was an accident but um. This sort of. Seemed easier than getting divorced.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“... What?”

Orihime just shook her head and reached out, tapping the chikan on the top. It poofed, and together, Yoruichi and Kisuke hit the floor. Orihime only took a moment to find an empty sake bottle from the lab’s trash, which she placed between them, and then, after throwing a blanket over Rukia’s gigai, she made her escape into the night. She barely made it home before she passed out cold, and there, she stayed asleep for three days straight.

But she’d done it. Finally. She had done it.


	5. I spent it in good company

 

Ichigo killed Grand Fisher for a second time the seventeenth of June. Orihime almost wished she’d put herself even further back in time, remembering poor Masaki, who hadn’t needed to die. So many innocent lives, lost in the grand scheme of Aizen’s planning, and if she’d only thought things through, she could have stopped them, too.

She was doing the best with the time she had.

Orihime watched the whole affair from the sidelines, holding her spiritual pressure in her breast, wishing not for the first time that she could reveal herself. How much pain could her friends have been spared if she had been with them from the very beginning? Ichigo could barely stand by the time he was done, and Orihime watched quietly on as he collapsed into Rukia, trusting her to hold him.

Orihime was pretty sure it only took one month to fall in love. You could learn anyone in a month, could see anyone in a month, could fall the long fall in a month. She’d seen it in herself, after all. Now she saw it in them.

It was funny. Even after everything that had happened, Orihime couldn’t resent them. Not Rukia, and not Ichigo. They were two souls crafted from the same cloth, torn apart by circumstances. They both could have done better, of course, but Ichigo was just so young, and Rukia had never known love. The closest she had experienced to real love was Renji, who had abandoned her, and Byakuya, who would damn her. How could she possibly have made herself vulnerable to her own feelings? Even with Ichigo, who she trusted so completely, she must have been worried about the betrayal of her own heart. She had loved Kaien, too, and he had died by her blade. Of course it would be complicated.

She could see it in the way they moved about each other. So aware of each other’s finger tips, their eyes and lips, always too close and too far, seeking, and never finding. Rukia deceived herself, and Ichigo did the same, and together, they burned for one another. From what Orihime had witnessed, they always would.

She went home soaking wet, to an empty apartment. She did not cry.

Her notebook was filling up fast. She flipped to the nearest empty page.

 _Tomorrow_ , she wrote,  _Tatsuki will confront Ichigo by the riverbank, and go home with him, and tell him that he is in love. And I will find Rukia, and I will bring her home with me, and tell her she’s in love._

All by her design, of course.

~(o0o)~

 

“This is nice,” Rukia said, stepping into Orihime’s apartment. She took her shoes off at the door and stepped up onto the carpet, feet silent and sure when she moved.

Orihime followed after her. “More spacious than Ichigo’s room, at least,” she joked.

Rukia turned swiftly on her heel. “Excuse me?”

Oh, yeah. No one knew about that yet. “You stayed over at his house last night, didn’t you? Tatsuki is staying with him tonight. I think it’s kind of you both to be with him on the anniversary of his mother’s passing. I know that when Sora’s comes around, I don’t want to be alone.”  _Nice save!_

Rukia relaxed. “Ah. Yes. Well, he has been very kind to me since I arrived here.”

“He does seem to like you,” Orihime said. “Are you hungry? I can make dinner.”

Rukia paled.

Laughing, Orihime said, “Nothing weird, I promise. Egg fried rice.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”

Orihime cooked. She’d expected Rukia to wait at the table, but the woman followed her to the kitchen and then sat on the counter while Orihime busied herself at the stove. She realized, as she turned on the heat, that she and Rukia were the same in a way. They both looked to be young, but had lived lifetimes that no one would know. She’d missed Rukia, and as odd as it was to be around her again, she was sincerely looking forward to rebuilding their friendship.

This time, though, she was not going to let herself be caught in the weird will-they-won’t-they that Rukia and Ichigo engaged in. If there was anything there, she was going to give it a little shove. Tatsuki had only needed a little off-handed suggestion to decide she’d nag Ichigo about it in that way of hers, and when she was done, she’d report back to Orihime. She could plot so well when she wanted to.

“You live alone?”

Orihime nodded.

“Ichigo told me about your brother. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure lots of people lose their older sibling.” She waited.

“...” Rukia looked away. “Everyone dies, I guess.”

So they weren’t there yet. Soon, Orihime hoped.

“Do you have any other family that could take you in?”

Orihime shook her head. “My parents would have killed me, if Sora hadn’t kidnapped me and ran away. I have a great-aunt who supports me financially so long as I keep my grades up, but that’s pretty much it. Sora used to joke that the stork got him and I mixed up and dropped us off with the wrong family. We’re not really anything like the rest of them.”

“I see. It can’t be easy, being alone.”

“Did you grow up in a big family?”

“Of sorts.”

Orihime nodded. She took out some clean plates to serve dinner on. “Can I say something that might sound kind of… well, impolite?”

Rukia blinked. “Um. Sure.”

“You don’t seem like you grew up in a very stable situation. I think you understand me more than you let on.” She began to plate their food. “You don’t have to tell me. But I just want you to know I won’t think any different of you, one way or the other. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Rukia hopped off of the counter. “You’re mistaken,” she said. “I grew up just the same as everyone else in my neighborhood.”

“My mistake,” Orihime sighed. “Want to eat on the couch? We can watch TV.”

“If you’d like,” Rukia allowed.

Orihime turned on some inane anime. Rukia was instantly glued to the screen, and ate robotically. Orihime laughed a little and leaned back into the couch, happy to just be with Rukia, even if she was still distant.

They talked during the commercials, which Orihime muted.

“How have you been liking Karakura so far?” Orihime asked.

“I like it a lot. The people are kind, and exciting, and there’s lots of things to explore.” She smiled down at her plate, chasing a snow pea around with her chopsticks. “It’s very different from what I’m used to.”

“In a good way?”

“Yes,” she said. “In a good way.”

Orihime's smile widened. “Oh, good. And you and Kurosaki seem to be getting along well…”

“Of course,” she said. “He’s been a very good guide to Karakura.”

“And he’s a good friend to you, right?”

“Yes,” she said. She looked down at her bare feet, sticking out of a blanket that Orihime had pulled over their laps. Her toes were painted purple. For some reason, Orihime was reasonably sure that Ichigo had done them for her.

They were quiet while the show returned, but as soon as the next commercial break came, Rukia said, “Do you know Ichigo well?”

 _Well, I was married to the guy._ “Not as well as you, I think, but I think I know him alright.”

Rukia lowered her chin to rest on her knees, which were drawn up to her chest. “... Do you think that he likes having me around? Or have I changed his life for the worse?”

“How could you even ask that?”

Rukia looked up at her, startled.

“Don’t you notice? He smiles when you’re around.” Then she laughed a little. “I guess you wouldn’t know. He doesn’t really seem as happy when you’re gone. I think… I think you’ve changed his life for the better.”

She stared at the TV, changing lights reflected in her eyes. “I’m not so sure. I’m unfamiliar with how hum--I mean. With relationships. In general.” She fidgeted, uncomfortable. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. We’ve just met.”

“We have lunch all the time,” Orihime said. “I’d argue that we’re friends.”

“Friends?”

Orihime nodded. “You say you’re unfamiliar with human relationships, but I think you’re doing just fine so far. I’d consider you a friend, and I know lots of other people would, too.” She paused. “Of course, if you like-like Ichigo, I guess that’s a little different.”

“Like-like?”

“You know. Have a crush on him?”

“A… crush.”

Orihime nodded.

“Unlikely,” Rukia decided, haughtily. “I’m far too old for such things.”

“You’re never too old for a crush.”

“I wouldn’t even know how to begin to navigate such a thing,” she sniffed.

As if she was above it. Orihime almost wanted to roll her eyes. What, had Rukia gone to Matsumoto and asked how to have a husband before she married Renji? There had been rumors communicated to Orihime of Rukia being pregnant. Obviously she knew how to navigate. She was, what? 115 years old, give or take? Come on.

“Besides,” she said. “Ichigo isn’t interested in me. Not in that way.”

_“I’m close,” Ichigo panted into her ear._

_Orihime pushed back into him, sweat dripping from her brows. She knew he was close, damn it, but what about her?_

_“Fuck, fuck, oh god, Rukia--”_

_They both froze._

“I wouldn't be so sure about that,” Orihime said at length.

Rukia turned to look at her. “Have you ever been with someone? In such a way?”

“Yes,” she said, easily.

“How does it work?”

“Hypothetically?” Orihime snorted. “They like you, you like them, and, you know. You kiss, hold hands, and watch movies together.”

Rukia looked down at Orihime’s hands. “That’s how humans do things, then…”

Orihime felt her heart tumble over itself. She’d never really blamed Ichigo for his fixation on the raven-haired shinigami, to be honest. “Have you never held anyone’s hand before?” She turned hers over, palm up, and offered it to Rukia.

Rukia pinked. “Of course I have,” she snorted. She still eyed Orihime’s hand. “I’m older than you, you know.”

“I know.” She smiled. “I’ll take your word for it if you say you don’t like Ichigo. But if you did, well. There’s nothing wrong with being prepared.”

Rukia weighed her options for a minute. “Of course,” she said. “It’s training.” She reached out and laced her fingers through Orihime’s. Rukia's hand was warm, and soft, despite her calloused fingertips and palm.

Orihime scooted a little closer to her. “See? Nothing to it.”

“I’ve done this before,” Rukia said again. “This is nothing but a refresher course.”

The program came back on.

Orihime paid very little attention to the show, instead choosing to linger on the sensation of Rukia’s hand in her own. Rukia absently rubbed her thumb over the back of Orihime’s hand, stirring a spark of something deeper between them.

She could feel Rukia’s awareness of her, like another blanket, covering the both of them together. She was just as aware of Rukia, and by the time the commercials came back on, they were pressed tightly side to side.

Rukia turned to look at her.

“I wouldn’t mind a refresher course in the… other… matters.”

Orihime looked at her lips. “Me either,” she whispered. She reached out with her free hand and gently held Rukia’s chin, leaning in to peck chastely at her lips. Rukia stiffened, at first--perhaps because she was overwhelmed, or maybe because she was surprised. She melted a second later, and brought her hand up to the back of Orihime’s neck.

Her mouth was so small compared to Ichigo’s, and soft. She kissed gently, mouth opening slowly, her tongue hesitant. Orihime felt her stomach flood with a combination of heat and butterflies. She nuzzled Rukia’s face, getting closer. She threw her leg over Rukia’s hip and leaned up into Rukia.

Their program came back on, but they did not cease.

Going from someone who regularly messed around (thought it was out of a sense of desperation to keep their marriage together more than attraction, unfortunately) to a celibate fifteen year old had really been a pain. Vibrator or no vibrator, she’d missed kissing, and thus leaned into Rukia with gusto, unguilty about her mental age knowing that Rukia was so much older than her.

Orihime somehow ended up straddling Rukia’s lap completely. They made out, unhurried and nearly lounging, a sweet burn building between the two of them. Rukia’s hands slipped up the back of Orihime’s shirt, just feeling the bare skin there, caressing up and down.

Orihime didn’t think it would be wise to carry it on any further. She and Rukia had only ever made out in the past timeline, albeit sometimes shirtless, or with heavy petting, but it had never gone very fast.

It was late, anyway. Their show had ended some time ago, and Orihime knew that it was time that they retired. Gently, she pulled away from Rukia, grinning at her blushing face and kiss-thick lips.

“Bedtime, I think,” she said, softly. 

“R… right.” Rukia coughed, clearing her throat.

“...” Orihime stood. “We could cuddle in my bed, if you want.”

“For practice,” Rukia specified.

“Of course,” Orihime laughed. “Practice, sure.”

Rukia laughed, too. Hands linked, they ventured to Orihime’s bedroom, and spent the night happily curled together. Orihime wondered, quietly, what she would do when Rukia moved on. She did not want to be alone again, but love seemed so far away…

She would cross that bridge when she came to it, she supposed.

~(o0o)~

 

July came to a screaming halt on the sixteenth.

Orihime remembered with some amount of bittersweetness that she had awakened her powers the seventeenth of July, and that the feud between Ichigo and Uryuu occurred on that day. This time, there had been no fued, and the hole in the sky had opened a day earlier--the work of Aizen or Kisuke, she was sure, in order to further their agenda with Ichigo.

Orihime was taken off guard, but it was easy enough to slip away from school and start after the hollows in secret. Ichigo lent his body to Kon, and Ishida took off on his own. The day had come early, just barely, but it seemed there would be no stopping the menos attack. Orihime did not mind.

Her powers had awakened those years ago because of Tatsuki, who she loved so much, and had wanted more than anything to protect. The battle with Numb Chandelier was nothing like the first. She spotted the hollow and exterminated it without so much as a word of greeting, and when it was dead, still she felt no peace. She moved on to the next hollow, and the next, determined to keep Uryuu and Ichigo fresh for the battle to come. If they showed any signs of being unable to handle the menos, she would help secretly from the sidelines. This day was important.

She remembered being forced to watch from far away the first time, too, with Chad at her side. Back then, she’d been so conflicted about her powers, having recently seen Sora as a hollow, and knowing that whatever choice she made, there was no going back. Now, she couldn't imagine a life as a normal human.

“You there. Orihime Inoue.”

Orihime turned from where she’d finished cleansing another hollow. Kisuke was watching her. She wasn’t surprised--she had allowed a little of her spiritual pressure to begin to leak, enough to give the impression that she had only recently come into her powers.

“That’s a pretty impressive move. Who taught you that?”

She watched him, silent.

Kiskue chuckled. “Right. No one wants to talk to creepy men who know their name. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m--”

“Kiskue Urahara,” she said.

He blinked at her, surprised. “You know me. I wasn’t aware that I had a reputation.”

“You own the shady candy store on the west side,” she said. “Isn’t that right?”

“That’s right,” he said. “But I’m more than a humble shop owner.”

“I suppose you want to tell me what these monsters are.” She turned as another one charged from between an alley, and easily summoned Tsubkai, using him to cleave through the hollow’s mask. She turned back to Kiskue. “Well, Urahara-san?”

He pulled down the brim of his sunhat, just barely. “For such a beautiful girl, you do have an awfully cold face.”

“I’m fifteen,” she told him. She turned and started walking to where she could hear yet another hollow. “Old man.”

“Old man?” He blanched.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I get to guess?”

“You’re very unusual. At this point, I’d say I want to hear your guess.”

“You sure we have time for that?” She pointed at the sky, which was beginning to crack.

Urhura looked up. “Yes. Well. I know it looks ominous, but the world isn’t actually ending. You see, those creatures you’ve been seeing are called hollows. And that’s where they’re coming from. Someone must have activated a lure…”

She cut her eyes at him over her shoulder, pausing. Not Aizen, then. This one had been him. “Someone?” she questioned. “It was you. Wasn’t it?”

He looked quickly back to her, displeased at being caught out. “I can assure you, Orihime-san--”

“Inoue.” She corrected.

“... Inoue-san,” he continued. “I mean no harm. Why would I summon hollows here? I’m very much like you, and the hollows would love to eat my soul just the same. Bringing them here isn’t something I’m interested in.”

“Maybe not them. But I’m sure you’re betting on a menos to follow.”

His brows furrowed. “Someone,” he said, “has been doing their homework.”

She sighed. “I won’t get in the way of whatever it is you’re planning. But if something bad happens to my friends, I’ll know who to find.”

“Threats don’t seem very in-line with your character, Inoue-san.”

“You’re not the only one alive who can act, Urahara,” she said. She looked back up at the sky. “You’d better get your kids. The sky is starting to tear, and I’m sure they’d love to help with the fight.”

“Was that a threat, too, Inoue? No one comes near my children.”

“I wouldn’t stoop that low. I’m not like you.” She turned and started towards the park, quickly. “Stay away from me, and I’ll stay away from you, Urahara!”

“Don’t count on it,” he said behind her, teasingly.

She thought about flipping him off, but decided against it. She didn’t owe him a reply.

She reached the park after Kisuke and the rest showed up. Already, Ichigo was running to engage the menos. Orihime stepped into the fray, just next to Rukia, who had been placed under a binding spell. More of Kisuke’s meddling, she was sure.

“I-Inoue!” She cried. “Get away from here, it’s dangerous!”

“I can see it,” she told Rukia, softly. “Don’t worry.”

Rukia’s eyes darkened. “If you can see, then you know you have to get away from this place. Now!”

She shook her head. “No. He’ll need healing when he’s done. They both will.” She could feel Kisuke’s eyes on her, and knew he was listening for what she said. She didn’t pay him any mind, though. She watched as Ichigo ripped away from Uryuu, stepping with his sword drawn into the blast of the Meno’s cero.

“Ichigo!” Rukia screamed.

Orihime put her hand on Rukia’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” she said. She slipped her fingers beneath the spell and tugged on it, tearing it open and freeing Rukia. The shinigami woman did not notice at first, and stayed seated on the ground, body trembling.

Ichigo’s spiritual pressure absorbed that of the Menos, bending and reflecting it, amplifying it. This feeling, Orihime was used to. Ichigo’s power rose like a great tide, crashing over them in waves, as he ate up the hollow energy and made his own to match it. With a great cry, he sent the blast back towards the menos, and with it, cracked the great white mask the hollow wore.

It retreated, so big that its movements almost seemed slow. Over, just as quickly as it had begun. Ichigo had yet to learn to control his spiritual pressure, and under the new heights it had reached, he fell to the ground, his sword wavering. Uryuu, ever the quick thinker, quickly began to use it to shoot of arrows of enormous stature, quickly bringing Ichigo down from his high. The two of them collapsed after a moment, bloodied and spent.

“Well,” Kisuke drawled. “I guess that handles that.”

“What--why didn’t you--” Rukia realized she was free of the spell and climbed to her feat, rounding to face Kisuke with fury. “You could have handled that! How dare you force a substitute to engage with such a dangerous enemy!”

Kisuke smiled at her, deceptively friendly. “Me? Handle a menos? I’m but a humble shopkeeper!”

Rukia tore into him. Meanwhile, Orihime left them to attend to Ichigo and Uryuu. They both lay panting at the sky, soaked with sweat and having trouble breathing. Blood covered Ichigo’s face, and the cuts on Uryuu’s hands went deep. Orihime didn’t say anything as she stopped at their heads.

“Inoue,” Ichigo was the first to notice.

“Kurosaki-kun,” she said. “Ishida-kun.”

“What are you doing here?” Ishida demanded.

She smiled. “Helping, of course. Shun Shun Rika. I reject.”

The two boys were placed beneath her healing shields. It took her only a minute or so to have them both back to their usual selves, uncut and unbloodied. They stared at her, awed into silence, and then sat up as soon as her shields fell away from them.

“My head is healed,” Ichigo said in disbelief.

“And my hands…” Ishida turned to her. “What are you?”

“Human,” she said. She smiled. “Chad, too. We’ve both got powers, drawn out by being near Ichigo’s spiritual pressure.” She reached down, helping them both to stand. She smiled, laughing. “Your wounds are healed, but your clothes look ridiculous! You should both get home and get some rest, clean up a bit. And Ichigo… you should make sure Rukia is alright.”

“R-right,” he said, and hurried to his feet.

Ishida remained.

“What is it? Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” he said. “How long have you known? About your powers, I mean?”

“Years,” she said.

“I thought someone else was picking off hollows… I thought it was the shinigami. Was it you all this time?”

She nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She said, “Would you have believed me?”

“You could have shown me…”

“It wasn’t time,” she said. “I knew something like this would happen.”

He blinked, surprised. “Divination,” he said, certainly. “Is that part of your powers?”

“Something like that,” she said, at length. “Our secret, yeah?”

He nodded.

Kisuke appeared before her, then. “That was pretty impressive, just now.”

She turned and glared at him. “Thank you.”

“Skill like that takes a long time to cultivate. Even if you are a natural.” He leaned over her, as though using his physical height would intimidate her. Orihime tilted her head back to look him dead in the eye, unafraid. “You’ll have to tell me who taught you that little trick, Inoue-san.”

“Actually, Urahara-san.” She smiled. “I don’t have to do anything of the sort.” She bowed quickly to him and then began away, heading for her house. Abarai and Kuchiki would be arriving soon enough. “Bye, guys!”

Alone, she headed back to her apartment, aware of being followed the entire way. Her house was sure to be bugged, and her life to be monitored, but she was aware and ready, and would counter Urahara every step of the way.


	6. And all the harm I’ve ever done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I missed updating last week! I'm writing for camp nano at the same time as this, and so it's been a little bit of a race to do this fic AND meet my daily word count for my original content, haha. So short chapter this week. Next week will be considerably longer; they'll finally be entering soul society. Thanks for reading, and as always, thank you for all the comments and kudos!

She woke to the feeling of Renji’s spiritual pressure spilling into the atmosphere. Rising, she dressed quickly in a cotton sundress and sandals, pulled on a jacket, and took off into the night. Kuchiki was masking his pressure, but he was likely to be around as well. She was careful as she tracked Renji’s movements as he moved about. His senses, as well as those of his tools, were being jammed by Ichigo’s leaking spiritual pressure. He wouldn’t find Rukia until later that night. 

The sun had barely begun to rise, but Orihime walked with confidence until she finally spotted a flash of red hair. Renji was painstakingly checking for Rukia’s signature--which he wouldn’t find, considering her powers were disguised by the gigia. The original gigia had been engineered with a dampener on it to keep Rukia’s powers from returning and to keep the hogyoku hidden, but Orihime had broken it when removing the hogyoku from the gigia’s chest. Rukia didn’t know it, but the minute she shed her false skin, her powers would be returned to her.

Rukia approached Renji. Byakuya had not come yet, and the lieutenant was alone. 

“Hello.”

He looked at her for a second before looking away. “Crazy human,” he muttered.

“That’s not very nice,” she pouted.

He glanced her way again, then back to his work.

She sighed. “I’m talking to you, you know.” She walked up to him and poked him firmly in the shoulder. “It’s rude not to look at someone when they’re speaking.”

He reared away from her, eyes wide. “How?” He spluttered. “You’re just a human. You shouldn’t be able to see me!”

She shook her head. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” 

He said, “Be gone from me. You don’t know what you’re messing with.”

“No, you don’t know what you’re messing with.” She leaned in close, scrutinizing him. “I’ve got a serious bone to pick with you, Abarai Renji.”

“Y-you know my name? How!?”

“Listen up. I know you’re here for Rukia, and I know you’re going to be an asshole to her. That’s right, I said it. An asshole! I know you like her, Abarai, and I know you’re just mad about being left behind. You might think you’re doing the right thing, dragging her back home to face jail time, but you’re just being a jerk! If you love her, and if you see her as an equal, you should be kinder to her! You know Rukia. You know she wouldn’t break the law without reason. So why haven’t you stopped to consider that there might be something bigger going on here?”

He gaped at her, mouth hanging open uselessly. “I… what?”

“Rukia never wanted to leave you,” she said. “You’re friends! Do friends turn on each other, just because there feelings are hurt? If you were the one down here, and you broke the law, she wouldn’t come to kick you while you were down. She’d be here to help you in a heartbeat! So what is it you think you’re doing?”

He scowled. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t talked to her in almost fifty years. She’s no friend of mine.”

“Isn’t she?” Orihime insisted. She stepped closer. “Who protected you both, when you were children? Who helped you in the academy? Who was your friend when you needed one most? Even if she did choose to discard your friendship, does that make everything else obsolete? Didn’t it happen? Didn’t you love her, Renji?”

Renji shook his head at her, listeless, lost. “You don’t--”

“You’re going to have to face this all some day. Sure, she’s part of the Kuchiki clan, so they don’t want a scandal. But doesn’t it seem odd to you that so many resources have already been expended for her capture? Don’t you find it strange that they sent not only a lieutenant, but a captain to take her into custody? Most of all, two people she would never fight back against? People she loves, and knows? She’s not even a seated officer.”

“But she’s strong enough to be.”

“Strong enough to need a Captain, her own brother, to hunt her down?”

Renji paused. “Who are you?” he asked. “Why do you know all this?”

“That’s my little secret,” she said. “You’ll find her tomorrow night, and if you’re as kind as I’ve known you to be, you’ll reconsider what you’re going to do.”

“Never,” he huffed. “She broke the law, she has to pay.”

“And why would she break the law, anyway?”

Renji looked away from her. 

“Think about it,” Orihime said, and then turned and left, not sparing so much as a glance back.

~(o0o)~

 

Orihime endured the lunch beneath the tree, with her friends from class, that afternoon. Rukia was bombarded by inquiries into her relationship with Ichigo. In that regard, not much had changed. It was always those to, assumed to be lovers, and their rigid insistence that they were friends. More than friends, less than lovers. Bullshit, all of it. Orihime could not believe the lengths the two would go to to save their reputation. They really were perfect for each other. 

Orihime had been worrying about the night all day. Ever since she’d seen Renji, she was worried that perhaps he would somehow speed up the timeline and attack before Rukia ran from the clinic, and she’d been on high alert because of it. So she wasn’t startled when she started to class, only to be pulled behind some bushes by Rukia. She was, however, surprised.

“Rukia?”

“I’m leaving,” Rukia blurted.

Orihime blinked.

“I’m transferring back to my old school.”

Orihime said, “The shinigami school?”

“What? No the--I mean.” She sighed, and looked away. “Yes. The shinigami school It’s… very far away.” She frowned, rubbing her shoe into the ground. “It was stupid of me to get close to anyone here. I knew I’d leave eventually. This was all pointless. Forget I said anything. You’ll forget about me soon anyway.”

Orihime reached out and grabbed her arm before she could walk away. “I don’t think it’s pointless,” she said, honestly. “Even if I don’t remember you, my soul will. The connections that we’ve made to one another can’t be broken, even if my memories are stolen from me. This friendship will always be here, Rukia. Even if you never see me again, I’ll still hold you dear in my heart.”

Rukia stared at her.

“I’m glad I got to meet you,” Orihime said. “Truly, I am. So thank you.” She bowed. “Thank you for taking the time to know me. And thank you for saying goodbye this time. It means everything to me.”

She swallowed. 

“Rukia.” Orihime tilted her head up. “It’s going to be alright. I promise.”

“You can’t know that.” Rukia stepped away from her. “I can’t even say goodbye to Ichigo. Not really. He’ll come after me, and then he’ll…” she trailed off. “I don’t want it to be like I was never here, like nothing ever happened. But it’s better this way. If no one knows me, that means no one can get hurt because of me.”

“If no one knew you, we’d all be worse off,” Orihime insisted. 

“You can’t possibly know that,” Rukia said.

Orihime remembered the twins, and their plan to erase Rukia from history. “I can,” she said, solemnly. Eesh, they were going to have to deal with that again too, weren’t they? She wished she could fast-forward through certain parts of her life. 

Rukia shook her head. Her eyes were teary. “I have to go,” she said, quickly. She licked her lips. “Thank you, Inoue. For trying to teach me what it means to be human.”

“Orihime,” she insisted. “And I didn’t teach you anything. You already knew, Rukia.”

She shook her head. “Goodbye,” she said, and kissed Orihime quickly before she sprinted away, wiping her face the whole while.

Orihime remained rooted in place for a moment before she sighed and went back into the school building. She gathered her things and set a course for home, knowing that soon the battle would take place, and Rukia would be taken back to soul society, by force, or otherwise, she had yet to see.

 

~(o0o)~

 

She’d nearly made it to her apartment when her path was interrupted by Kisuke Urahara.

“Orihime Inoue,” he said.

“Kisuke Urahara.” She’d not realized how distasteful she found him until he started appearing with regularity. He thought he could meddle with other people’s lives, and he didn’t mind who got hurt along the way. She’d been his amusement too many times, and even if he did mean well in the end, she was annoyed by his persistence. Was she doing the same thing as him? Sure. But she felt her intentions were less… gray.

“Have time for a chat?”

“No, actually. I have a lot of homework.” She tried to step around him, but he moved swiftly into her path, smiling amicably. She frowned at him. “This is harassment.”

“This will only take a moment,” he said. He looked back to hr building and then to her. “Might I come up?”

“No,” she said.

“I don’t think you want to have this conversation where anyone could hear.”

“My apartment is bugged, so either way.” She shrugged.

“Ah. So you noticed.” He scratched at his chin. “It’s about the hogyoku.”

“...” She sighed. “Alright, fine. You can come up. But don’t expect me to make tea and snacks.”

“Of course not,” He drawled. Stepping aside, he allowed her to lead them to her apartment which, to her annoyance, was already unlocked. It looked like he had been there while she was away, and when she stepped inside, she could tell someone had gone through her things. Everything was put away, but just off enough to alert her. She turned to glare at him. “Really?”

He smiled at her, closing the door behind him as he discarded his sandals at the door. “You find lost things in the most unusual places.” 

She looked him up and down, as if she could find some sort of hint to his intentions on his body. She found none, of course, and begrudgingly said, “Please, sit,” and gestured to her table. 

They took seats opposed to each other, Orihime with the apartment at her back, Kisuke with the door at his. 

Orhime folded her hands on the table and said, “Alright, Urahara-san. What’s this about?”

“As you may know, Rukia Kuchiki is going to be arrested later this evening.”

She schooled her features. “Why would I know that?”

He went on without explaining. “Because of this, I wanted to run a last-minute check to be sure everything was in place. Especially with you around, a real wild card, even compared to Ichigo. It was going to be a pain to block you from an attempt to stop Abarai and Kuchiki-sama from taking Rukia back to Soul Society, but I had a few ideas.”

“And?”

“None of those are important.” He waved his hand in the air between them. “What is important was the… oddity I noticed, in Rukia’s body. You see, I hid something in her, and when I went to check and be sure she still had it, I found that it was missing.”

Orihime felt herself begin to sweat. “How does this affect me in any way?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” he said. “As you can imagine, when I discovered the hogyoku was missing, I was alarmed. I thought, at first, that Aizen had managed to outsmart me. That’s ridiculous, of course, I’m far smarter than him.”

Orihime rolled her eyes. 

“If Aizen had the hogyoku, he would have revealed himself by now. Because after a further inspection, I found that it’s been missing from Rukia for months now. So if Aizen didn’t take it, who did? I went digging a little further and found that someone had erased a small portion of my memory. Times like these makes me think I should be keeping a backup of my memory like my old pal Miyuri. Seeing that I didn’t have any indication of the events missing in my mind, I decided to check the shop’s security feed. Now, I thought that would be fairly useless, considering any decent cover-up would go for cameras straight away. While the footage shorts out before I can really see anything, you’ll never guess who I saw on tape, sneaking into the shop, just before the tapes are cut and my memory runs out.”

Shit. She looked sharply away from him.

“Orihime,” he said, and leaned up over the table. “Where’s the hogyoku?”

“You really think I could hide it from you? Me, the idiot who forgot about the security cameras?” She stared hard at the table, forcing herself not to give anything away with her face or body language. 

“I don’t,” he said, easily. “Which is why I’m surprised that I can’t find it. You’re a sweet girl, Orihime. I’d hate for things between us to get sour.”

She looked up at him, letting out a long breath. “Okay,” she said. “Fine. The truth is that I destroyed the hogyoku.”

“Impossible,” he said.

“Just because you couldn’t do it doesn’t mean that it’s not possible.”

He made a face at her. 

“You guessed my powers were healing,” she said. “You’re wrong. It’s the negation of events. The manipulation of time and space and reality.”

“Such a power,” he said, “Would trespass in god’s domain.”

“I’ll tell god ‘hi’ for you then,” she muttered.

He regarded her a moment longer. “If you destroyed it, what comes next?”

She blinked at him. “What?”

“When Aizen discovers that the hogyoku is missing, what do you think will happen?”

“He won’t know it’s destroyed,” she said. “You weren’t supposed to know. No one was. He wouldn’t know where it was, and neither would you, and without it, he would have to use his version and would never make a completed hogyoku.”

“So he would continue to kill thousands of souls to feed its power,” Kisuke said.

“No,” Orihime said. “When Rukia is taken to soul society, Ichigo will want to rescue her. We all will. We’ll break into the gotei thirteen and fight to reach her, and with Aizen trying to stage his own death, and all that complications, I’ll find a way to access Aizen’s hogyoku.”

“If you destroy it and he gets away, he will only make another one.”

“I’m not stupid, thank you.” She sighed. “I’m going to heal his. With its full power restored, Aizen will make the final espada army. I think he’ll use them to try to find yours. And when he doesn’t, he’ll find me instead.”

“How do you know all of this?” Kisuke finally asked. “About Aizen, about us. Everything. No one’s found out in the hundreds of years this has been going on, and you… a young human girl. It doesn’t make sense.” His eyes widened. “Power over time.”

She looked away from him.

“This isn’t your first time doing this,” he realized. His eyes narrowed. “Did we lose?”

“No. But I’m going to make sure that the war doesn’t happen this time.” She shook her head. “I doesn’t matter that we won. It was at to high a cost, and everything that happened afterwards was just more pain. I know these things rarely work, but I’ve thought this all through. I’m going to save everyone a lot of pain and heartache.”

“Tell me what happens, and what you’re going to do.”

She fixed her eyes on him, cold. “You’re half the reason everything is messed up!”

“But if I just knew a little more--”

“No! You think you know best, but you don’t. You’re a genius, I’ll give you that. A brilliant strategist. But I’m not here to talk strategy, Kisuke. I’m here to fix things, and I’ve already decided how. And--” she spoke over him as he opened his mouth to argue-- “I’ve decided that means, especially, excluding you. You keep your plans on track just like before, alright? Everything I’ve planned works around them. I don’t approve of your methods, but I’m not here to take you out of the picture.”

“You mean kill me.”

She looked back up at him. “Yes.”

He nodded, leaning back on his hands. “I see.” After a moment, he said, “So that’s the deal, then? I act like nothing’s changed, and what? You don’t erase my existence?”

“Something like that,” she whispered.

He scratched at his stubble. “Can’t say I like it.”

“I didn’t like the way you used and manipulated me, the first time, either. It’s uncomfortable, isn’t it?” She stared him down without pity. “I’m sure Rukia wouldn’t like it if she knew what you have planned for her, either. You want to know why Rukia got caught so fast? Despite everything you did to try to turn her into a human, to absorb the hogyoku, against her will?” When he didn’t answer, she went on. “Aizen knows  _ you _ , Kisuke. Far too well. He sent Rukia here to begin with. It was all a trap to get the hogyoku, because he knew what sort of thing you’d do. That’s why it’s up to me to know what happens, and you have to stay in the dark. You’re too predictable to a man with a like-mind.”

He sat quietly for a minute. 

“He’ll kill her, now,” he said, quietly. “To get the hogyoku without revealing himself. Somehow, I don’t know how, but somehow, he’ll have her soul incinerated. I never wanted this.”

“I know.” She stood and made her way to the door. “You’d better get going. Ichigo will be losing to Byakuya any second now, and you’ll need to bring him back to the shop so I can heal his wounds. I’ll let you give him back his shinigami powers, instead of healing them. I know you’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve.”

“I always do,” he said. He put his sandals back on and started out into the night. It was going to rain. “If things start to get wildly out of hand, I’ll know who to blame.”

She smiled at him, the first genuine smile she had gifted him this timeline. “You say that like I wouldn’t go back in time the second things started to go south.” In truth, she wasn’t entirely certain she could, but it wasn’t like she couldn't try.

Kisuke laughed. “Fair enough, Miss Inoue. Fair enough. Goodbye for now, then. I’ll see you back at my shop.”

“That you will,” she said. She closed the door and took a deep breath in, steadying herself.

She turned, surveying her riffled-through apartment, and then shook her head. In twenty days, they’d start for soul society. She had a lot to do before then. Namely, schoolwork. She hadn’t been lying when she told Kisuke she had homework to do.

Stuffing her backpack with a change of clothes, she started back out into the night, heading for the shop. Across town, she could feel a senkiamon open. She ignored the churning in her gut and hurried her pace. Ichigo was dying, but then, this wouldn’t be the first time, now, would it?

~(o0o)~

 

When she got to the shop, she found that she had three people to heal, instead of two. There was Uryuu, sliced to the bone, Ichigo, a mess of bloody ribbons, and most surprising of all, Renji, blood trickling steadily from his mouth.

So things were already getting a little out of hand. This would be her first casualty. Renji had gotten hurt, and this was because of her. She healed him first, pushing the hair out of his forehead while he slept. She worked, next, on Uryuu, and finally, Ichigo. They all slept, still and silent on a line of futons in the front of the shop.

Renji was the first to wake.

“I’m… alive?”

“What happened?” She urged him. 

“It’s you,” he realized. “My fairy-godmother.”

She blinked at him. “Your. What?”

He shook his head, blushing. “Ah. Never mind. What are you doing here? Am I dead? Again?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I healed you. You’re going to be alright.”

He tried to sit up, but she pressed a hand to his chest, keeping him down.

“What happened?” She repeated. 

“...” He sighed, closing his eyes. “I thought about what you said. It. It made sense. Nothing going on seemed right. I cornered Rukia and talked to her and… and it made sense. She never intended to abandon us, or break the law. She was just doing her job. And so, when Byakuya showed up, I tried to talk him into going back on orders. I wanted to bring the human back alive, and Rukia agreed with me. If she could testify, we could have the process reversed, and everything would go back to normal. But he wouldn’t listen. He wanted to take Rukia in and kill the human. She wouldn’t let him. So he was going to force her. And then he showed up. The orange haired shinigami. Rukia begged me to stop her brother and I… I tried.” He scowled, gaze darkening. “Byakuya has no need for a rebellious subordinate, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, softly. “I had no idea this would happen…”

“They’re going to put her on trail. But she fought against him, resisted arrest and orders from a captain. Our orders were to bring her back, dead or alive. It doesn’t look good, and you’re right. It doesn’t make sense that it turned out this way.”

She licked her lips. “We… we’ll get her back. I promise.”

“How?” Renji asked. “You saw what Byakuya did to us. There’s no way we could face soul society, we’d be killed instantly. The human lost his powers, I got my ass kicked, and even I could have taken out the quincy if I wanted to. There’s just no way.”

“I’m getting my powers back.”

Orihime and Renji jumped. Behind them, Ichigo’s eyes were open, and he was staring up at the ceiling with determination blazing in his eyes. “They’re not going to lay a finger on her. Rukia saved me. Saved my whole family. She changed my world. I’m getting my powers back, and then I’m going to save her.”

Renji sat up. “Are you nuts? Byakuya almost killed you in three seconds flat! If Rukia had interiened, you’d be dead for sure right now!”

Ichigo continued to stare up at the ceiling, determined. “I’m going to save her,” he repeated.

“Me too.” Ishida said. “I’m coming with you, Kurosaki.”

“You don’t even know Rukia!” Ichigo protested. “This is my battle. I’ll--”

“Who said I was doing this for Rukia?” Ishida scoffed. “I just don’t like shinigami. Anything to get under their skin.”

Orihime stifled a laugh. Turning, she looked down at Renji. “And I’m sure you want in, too?”

“This is a suicide mission,” he said, gravely. “But it’s not like I have much choice. I’d rather die in battle than rot away in the human world. So, what. The three of us storm in there, kick ass, and haul her back here?”

“You think I’m not coming?” Orihime said. “Without me, you three would still be bleeding out on the floor.”

“The four of us, then.”

Orihime shook her head. Holding up her hand, she said, “Five.”

“Five?” The three boys choroused. 

“You’ve been so busy with your feuds you haven’t stopped to notice that Chad has powers, too.”

“Chad?” Ichigo gasped.

She nodded. “And he’s Rukia’s friend, too.”

Urahara appeared, then, Yoruichi winding about his heels as he slid the door open and took into the room. “You’ll be needing your powers back, first, though, won’t you?”

“Hat and clogs!”

“And the rest of you will need to train,” Yoruichi said.

They stared at her.

“Is that. A human-world thing?” Renji squeaked. “Do cats talk here?”

“I must have hit my head harder than I thought,” Uryuu muttered.

“Shut your mouths,” Yoruichi snapped. “Show some respect. If you want to stand a chance out there, you’ll take advice from me. Your bodies need to rest and heal, but after that, we’re going to train like there’s no tomorrow.”

“R-right,” they chorused. 

“Until then,” Urahara unclasped a fan and waved himself, just barely concealing a grin. “Ichigo. You have one more day of school to finish. I think you should go.”

“What? No way! This is way more important than that.”

“You never know,” Urahara said. “This may be the last time any of your friends see you alive.”

“R… right.”

“So it’s settled,” he said. “Humans, say goodbye to this world. Renji… I suppose you can stay with us until then.” He smiled. “For a price.”

“Oh great,” Renji rolled his eyes. “Who are you again?”

“Kisuke Urahara,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”

Renji’s eyes widened in recognition. “R-right.”

Feeling like she was finally back to where she needed to be, for the first time since becoming a teen again, Orihime smiled. “I suppose I better get you boys home, then. We’ve all got school in a few hours.”

They groaned. 

Orihime just laughed. She could feel Urahara’s eyes on her, calculating, but it didn’t bother her. Despite Renji getting hurt, this was probably a good thing. Having him from the beginning might make exposing Aizen that much easier. She turned to look at him and smiled.

All according to plan.


	7. And drink a health whate'er befall

 

With step one of her plan completed, Orihime moved on to step two.

Over the course of the next twenty days, Orihime threw herself into the training of Chad, Uryuu, Renji, and Ichigo. They were injured most days, and exhausted every night. Orihime healed them time and time again, was there personal cheerleader, and above all, a formidable opponent. Not one of them had managed to put a crack in her shields, despite rigorous training by both Yoruichi and Urahara, but they were getting stronger every day. She could feel it.

It was training for her, too. Though she’d been taking care of hollows now and again, it was never a good idea to let one’s skills go out of practice. She could feel everyone’s scrutiny towards the sheer magnitude over her powers, along with her stamina, but she offered up no explanation to quell their over-interested eyes. 

Their mission was simply to rescue Rukia. No one knew about Aizen, or the trials to come. It wasn’t that Orihime didn’t trust the others to know, but she had to do this alone. If they got in the way, Aizen could succeed with his agenda, or worse, they could be killed. Orihime was determined to let it be her life on the line, and no one else’s. 

Ichigo had insisted she did not remove the heavy scarring on his shoulders, chest, and stomach. He said they were a physical reminder urging him to beat Byakuya. Renji, though, looked completely whole again, whipping Zabimaru about in the underground with his shirt off. He needed no reminder on his skin. The urge to surpass the Kuchiki captain, he said, was stained into his very blood.

Orihime watched them, as though they were her brood, worrying her lip more and more raw with each passing day. They just weren’t ready. But then, they hadn’t been the first time, either--her least of all, perhaps. She reminded herself that no one was going to die. She wouldn’t allow it.

She saw her concern mirrored in Yoruichi’s eyes, and in Kisuke’s. Though she had forgiven the duo for their sins some years passed, it was difficult to stand by silently and watch them a second time. What did they think they were doing, sending children into battle? Even now that they had Renji, what sort of warriors were they? Kisuke surely hadn’t known that they wouldn’t die. All along, he’d used them, just to further his own agenda. It did not sit right with her, knowing how powerful the two of them were. Kisuke could not yet re-enter soul society, but as a cat, Yoruichi could. She could have made away with Rukia in the middle of the night, and no one would have been the wiser. Sure, it would not have stopped Aizen in his tracks, but would it not have been better that way? Could Kisuke not clean up his own messes, repentant though he was? Why had it always been up to them?

She could see no way around it, now. Ichigo was determined, and Orihime had her own plans. 

“You look worried,” Kisuke commented, watching Ichigo and Renji fight. “I’m sure Abarai won’t kill him.”

She licked her lips and paused before she spoke. “I appreciate that you are trying to include me, Urahara-san. I mean no offence when I say this, but I don’t take any delight in scheming like you do. Leave me out of it.”

He ducks his head. “Of course, Inoue-san. But I notice that you’re allowing all this. You, too, must know its necessary.”

“His hollow would have come out at some point,” she admits. “But I don’t relish the pain you put him through, or that you’re going to leave him in the dark about this. He won’t understand this power that he has until it’s too late to undo so much damage it’s caused…” she trailed off.

“You’re here to change things,” he said. “If you don’t like my methods, I would encourage you to implement your own. Unless, of course, such ‘scheming’ is beneath you.”

“Do not ask what means of success are beneath me anymore,” she said. “The answer will only make us both upset.”

“Of course, Inoue-san.”

They leave it at that.

~(o0o)~

 

The day of the fireworks festival is nostalgic. Orihime hates bright explosions, but she goes regardless, if only to say goodbye to Tatsuki. Tatsuki takes the both of them down to the riverside, laughing when the fireworks start before dark even settles.

Chad, Uryuu, Keigo, Mizuru, Ichigo, and his family join them only long enough to run off again, leaving Tatsuki and Orihime alone. Orihime doesn’t want to leave Tatsuki behind again, but she can’t introduce the girl to the horrors of the war to come. She’ll tell her everything when the time is right, and until then, she’ll try to be a better friend than she was the first time around.

“It feels like we haven’t been here for the longest time,” Orihime laughed beneath her breath, gazing out across the sun-stained waters. 

“The last time we were here was last Autumn,” Tatsuki said. 

“Starting from the year before last, right?”

“Yeah,” Tatsuki nodded, fondly. 

Orihime sat in the grass. “We used to come here every year,” she recalled.

Tatsuki smiled. “Yeah. Remember in middle school, you found red dragonflies? And spent the whole day chasing them around, happy as anything… and then I spent days trying to find where the hell you’d run off to.”

She laughed. “Yeah. I remember.”

“You told me your big brother Sora used to be the best at getting the dragonflies to land on his fingers, right?”

“Yeah, that was him.” She sighed. “I loved that. That feeling. It was like magic.” She looked up at the sky, smiling. “I really wanted to do it, too. But for some reason I never could.”

Orihime turned when Tatsuki didn’t reply. Her smile fell, slowly. 

“What’s wrong?”

Tatsuki looked away. “Just… don’t run off to far.”

Orihime wanted to tell her. More than anything, she did. She remember the time before, with her obvious lie--staying at her grandmother’s house, Tatsuki never bought it. Quietly, she said, “When summer vacation ends, Tatsuki? Let’s come back here again. Maybe we’ll catch some red dragonflies this time. Okay?” 

Tatsuki looked down at her feet.

Orihime reached out and clasped her hand. “Hey,” she said, softly. “I’ll come back. It’s a promise.”

“Okay,” Tatsuki said, voice small. She smiled and stood, still holding Orihime’s hand in her own. “I’ll be waiting for you to come back to my side, then. I promise.”

~(o0o)~

 

Orihime’s annoyance with Kisuke comes to a head on the morning of August eighth. Though the man is perfectly capable of sending a text message, calling, or even knocking on her door, he breaks one of her windows with an ingenious message that splatters itself over the wall in crimson red. Never mind that the moment she sees that much blood, her heart skips a beat and she feels sick and dizzy both at once, or that it makes her skin crawl with trepidation. The real bitch of it is that she’s going to have to scrub the walls when she gets back home, when all she’ll want to do is rest.

Orihime marched down to the Urahara shop with determination, hoping to at least tell Kisuke off before the others arrived. Chad, though, beat her there. 

“You got her quick,” she said, laughing.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “I was walking around near here when I got the message.” He paused for a moment. “Do I have no sense of humor?”

She snorted. “I think you’ve got a great sense of humor! The message was the same for all of us, don’t worry.” She sat down next to him, leaning into his side. “Now we wait for the others.”

Ichigo was the next to show up. Along with him was Renji, who had grown tired of the Urahara shop and had begged for a few nights staying at the clinic. They were arguing over who had clogged the toilet. Orihime recalled a time she daydreamed of Ichigo and thought him sexy. Those nerds had probably been up all night blowing each other. 

“Nice of you two to finally show up.” Kisuke appeared in the doorway of the show.

Renji scowled. “What are you getting onto us for? The quincy’s the last one, not us.”

“Yeah, right.” Ichigo snorted. “Like he’d actually come with us. He hates soul reapers.”

“Which is exactly why I’m coming with,” Uryuu stepped out of the darkness, finally arriving. Orihime had to admit, he looked rather cute in his Quincy uniform. “To show you up in particular, Kurosaki.”

“Oy!” 

“Enough squabbling,” Yoruichi wound herself through Kisuke’s legs, coming to stand in the middle of their group. “Save the fight for the enemy, fools. Now come. It’s time.”

She and Kisuke lead them into the shop, where the entrance to the training grounds had been opened up. Quietly, they all descended into the depths of the faux desert. There were still gouges in the dirt from training. 

“Alright everybody.” Kisuke walked out into the distance. “Watch closely now. We’re ready to go.” He snapped his fingers, and out of the rocks and dirt, pillars rose and slammed together, creating a cloud of dust.

They all coughed, waving hands in front of their faces as they waited for the dust to settle. When the air had cleared, the gate stood proudly before them. 

“This,” Kisuke said. “Is the senkaimon. Listen carefully. I will now teach you how to pass through it without dying.”

“Dying?” Renji balked. “What kinda senkaimon is this?!”

Kisuke ignored him, and using the hilt of his ‘cane’ he quickly knocked Ichigo’s spirit from his body. Ichigo was used to it, by then, but still hadn’t learned to be careful with his human form. It dropped lifelessly to the ground. Orihime recalled all the times she’d had to heal him from carelessly leaving his body. Once, it had rolled down a hill and into a river, and they’d spent all night looking for it, and upon finding it, Orihime had spent the rest of her energy healing the frozen, waterlogged corpse. She’d been rather terse with him, that time.

Kon was given to the body, with fanfare Orihime largely chose to ignore. 

“To answer Abarai’s question,” Kisuke continued. “Usually this door is made by adding reishihekakon to the top of the senkaimon, and the use of ketsugoufu covers it up so that it will stay together.”

Uryuu stepped up to the gate, trailing his fingers over one of the four pillars it was composed of. “Reishihekanki?” he guessed.

“Yes,” Kisuke said. “As you know, soul society is the world of souls, and in order to get there, you must  _ be _ a soul. But only Kurosaki and Abarai here has a soul forms, as a shinigami. The rest of you would still be tied to your bodies by the chain of fate, even if we did separate soul from body. It would be just about impossible to move about in soul society like that. Hence, the reishihekanki. It will change the living, keishi, into the soul, reishi.”

“So we just go through the door, without separating our souls from our bodies,” Uryuu concluded, astute as ever. 

“Exactly.” Kisuke said, smiling wide. “You can go to soul society in your original forms.”

“Okay, we got it, let’s go.” Ichigo stepped towards the door. 

Kisuke jabbed him with his cain and sent the boy toppling over. “Now, to get on to the important part! While there’s no problem with going through the senkaimon, and it will be painless to pass through the reishihekanki and move forward, there is one problem. That problem,” he cut his eyes at Orihime, meaningfully. “Is time.”

She looked away from him sharply.

He continued. “You’ll only have four minutes to pass through the senkaimon.”

“Four minutes?” Abarai exclaimed. 

Kisuke nodded. “Once that time is up, the senkaimon will close, and you will all be forever stuck within the confines of the dongai. And by forever, I mean for the rest of your lives. In order to prevent things like hollows from crossing through the dongai, it’s filled with a substance called kouryuu, which stops souls from moving. If you touch it, your chances of leaving the dongai drop to zero percent.”

“Then I guess we’d better keep walking forward,” Yoruichi said. “The heart and soul are connected. What’s important here is what your heart thinks. If you don’t think you can do it, you won’t be able to. If you wish to follow me, you must believe you are capable of completing this.”

“What are you talking about?” Ichigo said. “Those who have gathered here already made the choice in their hearts. Every one of us is determined to follow through!” 

“Good,” she said. “If you lose that resolve, kid, then you will never return to this place again.”

“My resolve won’t ever waver on this,” Ichigo stated. “We  _ will  _ win.”

Yoruichi’s feline eyes held a hint of her human self’s smile. “Well said.”

“Excellent,” Kisuke said. “Then we’re ready. Tessia!” 

They looked back to the entrance. Tessai popped down. “Yeah, Boss?”

“It’s time.”

Tessai descended the latter and started toward the senkaimon. “You told them the dangers?”

Kisuke nodded.

“Then this is it.” Tessia paused before the senkaimon. He used his hands to begin a series of gestures that would activate the gate, and then crouched down before the senkaimon, hands on the base. The open air between the pillars began to waver.

“That’s incredible, Tessai,” Orihime laughed.

He smiled up at her. “Thank you, miss.”

“Alright,” Kiskue said. “The moment it’s open, run.”

“Got it,” Ichigo said.

The air between the pillars solidified into hard light, cracks like spiderwebs running through the surface of the light, causing it to refract and turn rainbow in some places. Behind the refraction of light was a wavering darkness. Orihime swallowed and took up the rear of the group, ready to usher them on if she had to.

“Go!” Kisuke yelled. The cracks came together all at once, shattering the hard light completely, revealing the impregnable black of the gateway. 

They ran.

Inside was just as Orihime remembered. Dark, and dank, and filled with bones and the oozing whiteness of the kouryuu. The people in front of her paused, much to Orihime’s consternation. 

Ichigo said, “This… is the dongai?”

“Move!” Yoruichi yelled. “The kouryuu will close in! Hurry!”

“R-right!”

They ran for all they were worth. The kouryuu closed around them just as quickly, and in a moment. Uryuu stumbled over a collection of bones, at one point, tilting dangerously close to the side, where the kouryuu simmered. Orihime grabbed him and threw him over her shoulder, ignoring his loud squawk of protest. Beside her, Chad grabbed Renji, who had turned to look back as well. She nodded at Chad and together they raced to catch up with Kurosaki.

“W-what is that!?” Uryuu suddenly yelled.

Orihime didn’t look back. “Keep moving!” She yelled. “Don’t look back!” 

“It’s the janitor!” Renji yelled.

“The janitor?!” Yoruishi cried. “Why today of all days?!”

Orihime could feel its heat breathing at her back. The exit was a glowing white square just up ahead, but she knew they weren’t going to make it at the rate they were going. “Soten Kisshun,” she declared. “I reject!”

The group was grabbed and collected into one solid golden bubble, just as the semichio caught up to them. It rammed into Orihime’s bubble, propelling them out the exit. They flew through the air, screaming, and then crash landed in a heap of elbows and legs.

Orihime’s shield collapsed around them. She sat up, dumping Uryuu into her lap. “Is everyone alright?” She shook off the odd sensation begging her attention at the back of her head--an instinct she’d developed, telling her they’d gone back in time. Eight days, if she remembered correctly.

Uryuu scrambled to get off of her, blushing bright red.

“More or less,” Renji grumbled.

Chad gave the thumbs up.

“Just fine,” Ichigo said.

Yoruichi stood and looked around. “We’re on the outskirts…” she said. She clearly remembered the place they were. She looked almost lost. “The gate is just ahead--”

“Then let’s go!” Ichigo stood to run forward.

“Wait!” Yoruichi yelled.

“Don’t be stupid, Kurosaki!” Renji lept to his feet. “The guard--”

It was too late, though. The gate fell before them, and with it, the guard. Jidanbo.

~(o0o)~

 

The hardest part out of everything was choosing when to step in, and when to let fate run its course. They would all be hurt, all have pain. She knew, even, that it was probably true that she couldn’t save every soul that had been lost in the first trail of time. Orihime stood quietly back and let Kurosaki fight the giant, Jidanbo, knowing that he would win the fight without anyone being injured.

“Kurosaki!” Renji yelled. “Hold on! We’ll blast a hole in the wall and--”

“No,” Ichigo yelled back. They couldn’t see him--when Jidanbo had revealed himself, he’d smashed the ground around them, making a wall that cut Ichigo off from everyone else, so that they would be forced to fight one-on-one. Ichigo didn’t see any problem with it, of course. “I’ve got this! You guys stand back and watch!”

“Don’t be stupid!” Renji and Uryuu corussed. They looked at one another, betrayed. 

“He’s got this,” Chad said. He looked certain.

They fell silent.

As the time before, the fight was quick. Orihime allowed it. She allowed the artificial wall to come down, and she pretended to be curious when the defeated Jidanbo offered to let them into the Soul Society by lifting up the gate. The moment he began to lift the entrance, though, she stepped forward and lifted a hand to her temple, waiting for Ichimaru Gin to reveal himself.

It did not take long.

“Ah,” said the fox, with a terribly knowing grin. “This is not allowed.”

Despite the years, and even knowing that Gin wasn’t truly on Aizen’s side, hearing his accented drawl still made Orihime’s skin crawl, just as his smile and edged demeanor did. He moved fast--so fast that the first time around, she hadn’t even seen him draw his weapon. This time, though, she was ready, and even then he had drawn his sword between one blink and the next. Still Orihime did not falter, and before Gin could cut Jidanbo’s arm off, her shield took up the gate’s entrance, reflecting Gin’s attack away from them. 

For a single second, it was silent.

“That’s Captain Ichimaru, of squad three,” Renji said. His voice was stony. 

“Abarai-kun, what are you doing with a rag-tag group of intruders?” Gin mused.

“We should retreat,” Yoruichi said. “Now!”

“But the door,” Ichigo said. “This might be our only chance!”

“Even together, there’s no way you can take on a captain!” Yoruichi said. “You cannot even imagine his strength.”

“He doesn’t scare me!”

“He should,” Renji said. “... I might be able to take him.”

Gin took another step forward, still smiling. “Well I think I’ve been mighty polite letting ya’ll stand around deciding what to do, but I’m not a very patient fellow. And you.” He settled his closed eyes on Jidanbo. “A guardian does not open the gate when he loses. A guardian's loss is only to be expected in the form of… an execution.”

Ichigo let out a yell and ran through Orihime’s shield, intercepting Gin’s second attack. Orihime’s eyes caught the other man’s blade--he hadn’t even released his shikai. 

Renji yelled, “Ichigo, no!”  
Orihime was faster than all of them. She ran forward, manipulating her spiritual pressure to push herself forward in a move similar to flash-step. She touched down behind Ichigo, the soft flats of her shoes barely touching the stone ground. She grabbed him by the collar of his robe and heaved, with all she was, throwing him bodily behind her. At the same moment, she lifted up her palm, shields formed over it. Gin’s blade glanced over it. She saw his brows lift in surprise and made fierce, determined eye contact with him. 

“Remember this,” she told him.

In the next instant, she had flashed back, pushing Ichigo as she went. She released her shields and reformed them above Jidanbo’s hands, pulling them away from the gate. They all tumbled back, kicking up dust and debri. 

Orihime turned, just before the gate slammed shut. Beyond was Gin, calmly leaning down to watch them through the disappearing gap.

She couldn't help it. She beat him to the punch.

With a grin, and a wave that stopped Gin’s in their tracks, she leaned over as well. “Bye bye!” She said, and saw his smile drop just before the gate slammed closed.

Good.

She had his attention. 

~(o0o)~

 

As with the time before, the village accepted them eagerly after seeing them attempt to protect Jidanbo. Orihime didn’t even have to heal him, like last time. She was glad for the lack of bloodshed, but worried that Jidanbo didn’t fully realize what would have happened to him if she hadn’t blocked the attack. The first time, Gin had completely severed the giant’s arm. 

She was still at odds with how she felt about soul society. What Gin had done--would have done--was perfectly natural. She didn’t know if it was a result of corruption, or if soul society at its core was fundamentally wrong, but even knowing she would stop Aizen, she worried for the future. 

There was a lot of things to fix, and she was suddenly realizing just how big a task that was. She didn’t want to take over soul society, or even heavily manipulate it, but Aizen had proven just how easily bad things could take place, and even after him, soul society had continued to pull trick after bad trick.

The elder of the village had welcomed them into his home, and was going so far as to help them compose their break-in plan. She’d known how it would go, so she’d taken outside to clear her head. There was still so much to do. She almost wished she hadn’t gone back so far in time. She could have changed things even just by appearing before the beginning of the cold war. 

No. She wanted to save people. That’s what this was about.

“Hey.”

Orihime looked up from the stream she’d been collecting water from. Renji stood just behind her, looking down the length of the river. He didn’t meet her eye.

“Abarai,” she said. “Are you thirsty?”

He shook his head.

She frowned. He looked… pensive. “Is something wrong?”

“How did you know that I was going to come after Rukia?”

She sighed. “That’s my little secret, remember?”

He shook his head. “You knew again, today. With Ichimaru-taichou.” He peered at her with narrowed eyes, taking a step closer to her. The dark print of his tattoos contorted the lines of his face, making him appear almost demonic. It was attractive, in a way. “Are you human?”

“Yes.”

“What is your power? Exactly?”

“Secrets, Renji,” she said, “are meant to be kept.”

“We’re allies now, aren’t we?” His expression darkened. “Unless you’ve seen that, too. Do I turn on you, Inoue?”

She let out a little laugh, lost, but glad to be alive, in the moment, somehow. “No, Renji. You wouldn’t… I’m sorry. I was harsh, when I said you turned on Rukia. You’re very loyal.”

“I turned on her. Now I’ve turned on all of Soul Society. My captain. My friends. Everyone.” He sat down, suddenly, at the edge of the river, his feet dangling near the waters. “What’s to say I won’t do it again?”

She sat next to him. “Me.”

“So you do have visions of the future.” He looked over at her. “Can I ask you something?”

“I might not answer.”

“Do you see everything? Or just… flashes of important stuff?”

“Not telling.”

“How did you know all that stuff, about Rukia and me? You two, you got close, while she was in the human realm, right? How close?”

“Close enough,” Orihime said, remembering the soft plump of Rukia’s lips. 

“So she did tell you all that stuff.” He leaned back on his hands. “... It’s hard to believe she even still thinks of me.”

“You still think of her, don’t you?”

“All the time,” he admitted. “It’s hard not to, what, with her brother always breathing down my neck. He reminds me of her, sometimes. In weird ways.” He shrugged his shoulders, clearly uncomfortable. Orihime wondered, not for the first time, what exactly Renji felt for his captain. “When this is all over, I don’t even know what we’re going to do. We rescue her. Then what? We… we shack up in the Urahara shop with the rest of the soul society rejects? What kind of life is that?”

“Rukia was starting to love living as a human. Maybe you could, too.”

“No,” Renji said. “Once you have a taste of life as a shinigami… there’s no going back.”

Orihime thought of Ichigo, sneaking back in late, late in the night, smelling of smoke and booze and most concerning, ozone, the undead. The way he ducked his head when he entered the room, hiding his old substitute pass beneath the mattress as he slipped into bed, slow and quiet, like he didn’t know that he’d awaken her. 

“Yeah,” Orihime said. “I guess so.”

“Could you tell my future?” Renji asked. “If you uh. Focussed really hard?”

She laughed. “Maybe,” she teased. “It’ll cost you a billion yen.”

“A--” he spluttered. “A billion yen!?”

She stood, still laughing. “Come on, Abarai. We should be getting back. You’re not going to like the plan Yoruichi and the rest have cooked up for us.”

“That’s something else I wanted to talk about,” he said, as he followed her. “I know this is stupid. Yoruichi is a cat. But… There was a Shihoin Yoruichi in soul society once, and if I remember correctly, she disappeared around the same time as Urahara. So. Is there… a connection there?”

She didn’t get the chance to answer. They were near enough to the elder’s house to hear what was going on inside it. From within, there was a man yelling--one who was not part of their team.

“You trying to pick a fight with me?! Huh!?”

“Shit,” Renji cured, and started to run. “Can’t leave them for two seconds!”

Orihime ran after him, wondering how exactly this was going to play out. 

They burst into the elder’s home just in time to see Ichigo get thrown through the rice paper doors on the other side of the room. It took most of Orihime’s will not to face-palm. Renji and Ishida rushed to the door yelling, “Kurosaki!” 

Ganju’s gang was waiting just outside. “Uh-oh boss,” one of them called. “We’ve got another one!”

The Elder stood. “Ganju, stop this at once. These are good shinigami--”

“No such thing,” Ganju grunted. He kicked Ichigo to the ground and then stood over him, pointing down at the boy’s body. “You better leave this place. As long as I’m alive, I will not allow a shinigami to reside in the Nishirukongai!” 

_ Oi vay _ , Orihime thought. She rolled her eyes.

Ichigo kicked Ganju in the face and came to stand. “That’s enough,” he said. “You didn’t even hear me out! You can’t just go around hitting people, you know! And even if you did want to fight me, you’re not nearly strong enough to be my opponent.”

“Punk!” Ganji grabbed his bleeding nose to stem the blood flow. “That’s twice in a row you’ve punch my handsome face!”

“Is this guy for real?” Renji muttered.

“I kicked you the second time, idiot!” 

“Are either of them?” Uryuu asked Renji.

Orihime looked back for Chad while Yoruichi and the elder attempted to stop the fight. She knew already that they would be unsuccessful. Chad was looking for Ichigo’s sword, and had seemingly found it. He grabbed the hilt and started to the door, nodding at Orihime.

“Shit,” Renji was saying. “That idiot doesn’t even have his zanpakuto on him!”

Chad stepped past the lot of them and without a word threw the sword. Ichigo was ready for it, and readily caught the handle, grinning. “Thanks, Chad!” 

It was just as the time before. Sword fighting dissolved into kido, and kido dissolved into martial arts, and martial arts dissolved into undignified fisticuffs. Orihime groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. She hadn’t signed up for a glorified baby-sitting position. 

Looking down at Yoruichi, she could tell the feline was feeling the same, right about then.

Eventually, though, Ganju’s underlings urgently pointed the time out to their leader, and with a good amount of “I’ve got the bigger dick, don’t doubt it” Ganju finally rode away on his boar, the rest of the pig-riders following him.

They were left in stunned quiet.

Ichigo stared after the dust-trail left by the boars the gang had been riding. “They… they’re gone?”

Orihime sighed. “Such a disaster, Kurosaki.”

Ishida put his hand on Ichigo’s shoulder. “Take it easy there, Kurosaki. I’m speechless too.”

“Yeah,” Renji said. “Don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard.”

Ichigo whipped around. “You! Why didn’t you get out here to fight too, you asshole? That guy attacked me just because I’m a shinigami! Your pride was on the line, too.”

Renji leaned against the side of the building, crossing his arms. “Hey, I’m not the one that got into the fight, it’s none of my business.” 

“Like hell it isn’t! Didn’t you hear what he said about shinigami?”

“Is he wrong?” Uryuu muttered.

“Hey, whose side are you even on!?”

“As of right now, the losing side,” Yoruichi snapped. “Have you forgotten what we came here for, Ichigo? You can’t go around picking petty fights when we have a mission to attend to!”

“Wha--me?! That guy’s the one who started it!”

Yoruichi just shook her head and started back over to the elder, gently apologizing as she went. 

Renji stuck to Orihime’s side. 

“Did you see that one coming?” He mumbled.

She snorted. “You don’t need any sort of powers to know Ichigo is going to get into pointless fights,” she said. “I saw that one coming from a mile away.”

  
  



	8. A man may fight and not be slain

Kukaku Shiba was just as impressive as Orihime remembered, if not more so. There was something about her--the sprawl of her legs, the ease at which she leaned back into her pillows, the casual hold on her pipe, her smirk, any of it, all of it. Something that made Orihime go, ah, yes, this person knows what they’re doing more so than anyone else here.

That was saying something, considering her profession.

“Yoruichi,” the woman said with a grin. “Long time no see.”

The party: “Kukaku… is a woman?!”

To be fair, Orihime had been surprised the first time, too.

Kukaku understandably didn’t look entirely pleased by the fact that Yoruichi had company. It may have had something to do with the fact that the two had used to engage in what Yoruichi called “a fair amount of freaky sex.”

“Who…” Kukaku frowned. “Who are these kids?”

Yoruichi sidestepped the question, padding closed to Kukaku, where she took a seat with her tail neatly crossed over her paws. “Kukaku, I actually came here to ask you for a favor.”

“I thought so,” the woman said with a smirk that said the ‘favor’ was usually not of this nature. “Isn’t it the same every time you come?” The double-entendre was clear in the way she put emphasis on the last word in her question.

She sobered when Yoruichi didn’t laugh.

“Is it really complicated?” Kukaku asked.

“I think so,” Yoruichi answered.

She leaned forward, laughing beneath her breath. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had this kind of conversation… So tell me, then, what’s the job? I l _ove_ complicated stuff.”

The cat relayed the mission quickly, sparing a few details, but otherwise explaining their general need to break into the gotie thirteen. Kukaku listened quietly, nodding now and then as she smoked her pipe. When Yoruichi had finally told her everything, Kukaku stood.

“Alright,” she said with finality. “I think I understand. I’ll take the job.”

“Really?” Yoruichi sounded surprised.

“Yeah. I guess since Urahara is a part of this, I can’t really refuse. Gotta say, though… Just because I trust you doesn’t mean I trust these kids. I mean, look at carrot-top over there. Looks like he got clawed in the face by a kitten like some kinda idiot.”

Ichigo, who had, in fact, been clawed in the face that morning by Yoruichi for idiotic reasons, shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.

“I’m sending one of my men on the job, just to be sure no one screws this up. You got any objections to that?”

“Of course not,” Yoruichi said.

Ichigo cleared his throat. “What do you mean by ‘one of your men?’”

“My kid brother,” she said, and started toward a sliding door. “He’s still a punk, not good for much.” She knocked on the door. “Oi! You ready?” She didn’t wait for an answer before sliding it open. “I’m opening the door! Be courteous, got it?”

The voice from within: “Y-yes, onee-sama.”

From within, Ganju was revealed. He’d cleaned up since the night before, and was smiling politely, bowing his head. “H-Hello, everyone. My name is Shiba Ganju. Pleased to meet you.”

It was then, of course, that he noticed exactly who he was bowing to.

“AHHHHH!” Ichigo and Ganju both screamed. “YOU!”

“So then you two know each other?” Kukaku droned.

They attempted to begin fighting again. Orihime dropped her head into her hands and groaned. This was really what her life had come to? Watching her ex-husband-to-be get into pissing contests with everyone he met?

Kukaku stopped the two of them before they could get very far. A fist in her brother’s head, and the heel of her foot in Ichigo’s. “Cut that shit out! The hell is the matter with you two? Starting to fight the second you see each other!”

“B-but Onee-sama! It was. He. I!”

“You dare talk back to me?” She kicked him soundly in the jaw, furious. “And you, punk!” She turned on Ichigo, who had been pouting and muttering under his breath. She grabbed the top of his head and forced him to meet her eye. “This is my home. If you don’t like the way I run the place, then you can get the hell out!”

Ichigo blinked at her, surprised. “Oh. Um. I’m sorry.”

“That’s better.” She released him. “As long as you get the point. Now! Everyone else, this way!”

They followed Kukaku through a hallway.

“Wow,” Ishida said. “It’s so bright even though we’re underground. And I don’t see any electric lights or switches anywhere. How do you do it, Shiba-sama?”

“Oh, that. I planted some light vines between the walls and ceilings.”

“Light vines? Are those a type of special soul society plant?”

She ignored him. “Alright. Here we are. Open the door, Ganju.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Uryuu turned to Orihime, opening his mouth.

Ichigo grabbed him. “Hey, remember what she said. If you don’t like the way she runs things, you leave.”

“Wh--I was just asking about the plants!” “

“Yeah Kurosaki,” Renji said. “You’re the one who was tearing down her house fighting with her kid brother.”

Ichigo didn’t get a chance to reply. The doorway had been opened, and so the sky cannon was revealed to them. It was tall, polished black marble, shooting straight up through the rest of the Shiba manor. The lot of them stared at it, slack-jawed with awe.

“Wh… is that?” Ichigo blinked at it.

“It’s huge!” Renji said.

“This,” Kukaku slapped the side of the cannon. A hollow echo rang out within it. “Is how we’re getting you to seireitei. From the sky!” She grinned at their baffled expressions. “I’m the ambition wave of the sky crane; first class fireworks master!”

 

~(o0o)~

 

The plan was to use kido to create a shell to puncture through the shielding around soul society, after being blasted above the wall using the fireworks cannon. This was a relatively simple, though brazen, plan. Orihime hadn’t had any trouble creating a barrier the very first time she’d tried it, but she made sure to keep her shell simple enough to be a beginner's. As before, Ishida was able to make one, though the shape was off, and Chad was able to make a very powerful, if not unstable one. Even Renji managed to make one despite struggling slightly with the new form of Kido.

As before, Ichigo was the only one who couldn’t pull it off.

She almost felt bad for him. He was a natural at everything else, and he had nothing to draw on when it came to building skills that didn’t come to him naturally. He put the effort in, certainly, and trained far longer than any of the rest of them did, but his shield continued to be a wispy, incomplete mess. She didn’t know how to help him, so she did what she’d done the time before--nothing.

It was difficult as it was to keep things from getting too out of hand. It was clear that Ganju resented not only having Ichigo in his home, but Renji as well. As before, Ichigo seemed to be the one he focused his antagonistic nature on, but Renji wasn’t spared his ire either. Orihime wanted to tell Ganju that his hatred of the shinigami was for all the wrong reasons.

Ganju still believed his old brother, Kiane, had been killed in cold blood. Little did he realize that not only was he about to join a mission to save the very person who had put a sword to his older brother, but that Kiane had asked her to in order to die with the dignity of a shinigami after being possessed by a hollow. She felt that sharing these things would either raise too many questions, or mark her as a liar and traitor to the Shiba clan. She kept silent, even well into the next day, when Ganju finally told their group about his older brother.

“But you two…” He shook his head and Renji and Ichigo. “You’re different.”

They were. Even Renji, who just days ago was the same as any other, had changed. It was in this way that Orihime did still find Ichigo to be a remarkable man. He was able to sway people to his side, to change their very nature, simply by being around. Certainly, it had been Orihime that had gotten Renji to defect, but it was Ichigo who had changed the redheaded lieutenant in such a short amount of time. There was a loyalty, a code of honor, that seemed to follow him wherever he went.

She admired him for that. It had always been her wish to connect other together, but no matter how she tried, it seemed that often times she fell short of that goal. Ichigo met it without ever even trying.

The launch was just as before. It all was. Even with the addition of Renji, time changed very little. They were launched from the cannon, and they pierced through the shield above the seireitei, and just as before, they were seperated. Orihime allowed it, knowing she would never be able to carry out her plans in a large group. She changed it just barely from the first time, and instead of allowing Yoruichi to fall by herself, tossed the cat to Ishida.

They were separated thus:

Ganju and Ichigo.

Chad and Renji.

Uryuu and Yoruichi.

Orihime, alone.

Orihime fell from the sky by her lonesome, neither frightened nor overwhelmed. She felt, if anything, merely ready, and when she finally hit the ground, she simply stood and brushed herself off.

She pulled her spiritual pressure into herself, masking it completely. She knew that Yoruichi and Renji would likely notice, so she let it out very quickly once more before pulling it in, so that they would know she had not died all of the sudden. With that measure taken, she quickly looked around, trying to figure out where she was.

Much of Soul Society had changed since the beginning. She knew approximately where she was, but couldn’t remember the exact layout as it had been in the beginning. She wondered if Yoruichi had encountered the same difficulties upon returning to Soul Society.

It hardly mattered. She had to find Gin.

Already the streets were crawling with shinigami, looking for the intruders. As before, Orihime waited patiently in a clump of foliage. It didn’t take long for a single shinigami to go running past. With a quick breath in and a  quick breath out, she leapt from the bushes and quickly knocked the unnamed man unconscious. She looked to the sky and sent off a silent thank you to Tatsuki as she dragged the man into the brush, where she quickly stripped him of his uniform.

She’d worn a white top and a pair of black pants to Soul Society, both of which she’d sewn herself. They were both durable and stretchy, and what was more, light enough to wear underneath the new uniform she’d acquired.

“Sorry,” she whispered to the guy as she began to dress. He was a tad bit bigger than her, so she had to roll the sleeves up to her elbows and tie them, but she otherwise fit in his clothing. His shoes, though, were far too large. Orihime hoped the low hems of the hakama pants would disguise her cheap black flats until she could find another pair of sandals to swipe.

With her hair tied up in a bun and her hairpins secured to the collar of her uniform, she quickly set off between rows and rows of buildings. All over Soul Society, she could already feel several of her friends engaging in battle. Ichigo and Ikkaku, Ganju and Yumichika, Uryuu and… well, she couldn't remember his name, but it was the same man they’d first encountered. Jiro-something. Renji and Chad were fine so far, it seemed.

If she was feeling their spiritual pressure correctly, all the captains had been gathered in one place. That made her job a little complicated. She hoped like hell that by the time she got to their location, the meeting or gathering would disperse, and she’d be able to get Gin alone. She frowned, remembering that Kira Izuru had been Gin’s little shadow back in the day. She could tell the lieutenants were all gathered in one place, too. Hopefully it took time for them to get back to their captains.

She was admittedly worried. Renji had been quite the milestone for Ichigo the first time around him. Their battle had really pushed Ichigo to new heights, and counted as one of his very first major victories. Ichigo had trained with Renji extensively, but they had not tried to kill each other, no matter the awkward feelings between them. (After all, Ichigo blamed himself for Rukia’s sentence, and it was very likely Renji did, too.)

She was prepared to intervene and, at the very least, help shield him in coming battles, but she knew that this entire operation--the fate of the world, even--was up to him. It did not matter how powerful Orihime was herself; her powers were defensive, and though she’d cultivated her offensive powers quite a bit, she was still by no means the force that Ichigo was. Too much depended on him to shelter him from harm, as much as she wanted to preserve his childhood. Because at the end of the day, he really was still a child.

Everyone's favorite hero, and his voice still cracked when he got particularly pissed off.

She sighed. Still running, she reached into her robes and fished for the folded piece of paper in the front pocket of her pants. Drawing it out, she reviewed the plan, carefully laid out on one of her cutesy weekly planner pages. The plan went thus: 

She was relatively certain she’d gotten the timeline right, though reading over her note again she groaned noticing that she'd written Ganju vs. Ganju instead of Ganju vs. Yumichika. Gosh, she was frazzled. She fixed the note and then carefully and tucked into her uniform, hurrying towards where she could feel the Captains were beginning to disperse. Soul Society was huge, but whenever she was alone, she used her version of flash-step to propel herself further along the walkways. It was easy to navigate, now that she was disguised. She wondered why no one had thought to wear disguises the first time, when the outcome of their rescue mission hadn’t been certain. Something as simple as hiding Ichigo’s hair would have saved them a hell of a lot of trouble.

Oh well.

She slipped into an open courtyard, at the mouth of the shinigami HQ. She was panting and out of breath, but she’d at least made it before Gin could disappear. Gathering herself, she strode with purpose, collecting a random hell butterfly from the air so as to look like a messenger.

She felt the hair on the backs of her arms raise as Tousen strode passed her. He did not notice her and continued on his way. She took in a breath to calm herself and continued to where she could see the shine of Gin’s silver hair.

“Captain Ichimaru!” She called. “Message for you, sir!”

He turned at the sound of her voice. He paused immediately, recognizing her from the gate. Still, if there was one thing she could count on with Gin, it was his curiosity. He folded his hands behind his back and grinned, waiting for her to catch up to him.

“A message, hm?” He tilted his head and leered down at her. “Straight from the top, I s’pose?”

Despite the crawling feeling she got from his care-free smirk, she kept a serious, though cowed, expression, trying to appear like any other officer to the outside world. “Yes sir. Sensitive material. Is there somewhere we could talk?”

“Now people ‘round here are already a might sensitive about my intentions.” He cracked open and eye to fix on her. “Not sure how it might look to be receiving random messages all by my lonesome.”

She kept her cool. “You’re not exactly taking steps to make yourself look innocent, though, are you?”

The eye closed. Orihime felt a little bit better with the ghost of the blue eye hidden away once more. “Well now that’s just mean. Right this way, officer…?”

“Inoue, sir,” she said. She followed a step behind him. “I just graduated.”

“Ah, did you?” He smiled wide. “Well congratulations! And let me guess, ya got yer eye on squad three? Well, we’re a merry bunch, made merrier by our company. You’ve got the manipulation right, you might like ta join us.”

She swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

They proceeded to a nearby building. It was not squad three, but rather, the barracks. There was no one around, but Orihime looked about anyway, worried about being spotted. No one was the wiser, though. The entered without encountering a single soul.

It wasn’t until Gin was unlocking a door that Orihime realized, with a start, that they were about to enter Rangiku’s chambers. She was unfortunately not surprised to see that Gin had a key to her place--if anything, it was a measure against the man breaking in whenever he so felt like it.

Rangiku’s room smelled of sake, sakura laundry detergent, and her ever-changing perfume. Her futon was messy, the blankets strewn all over the floor, dirty clothes in a pile next to the almost-empty laundry basket. Next to the pillow of the futon were three empty bottles, and on her desk, four more.

“Now.” Gin pulled the little chair at the desk out, motioning for Orihime to sit. She did, releasing her hell butterfly as she did so. Gin opened the window and it fluttered away. He shut the window as soon as it was gone and then reclined in Rangiku’s messy sheats, casual as he leaned his head against his fist. “What’s the message, Inoue-san?”

“You have to kill Aizen.”

Gin stiffened immediately. For a moment, he was silent, but then slowly he uncoiled from his lax position and sat facing her, hand on the hilt of his sword. “Now why would I do a mean thing like that?”

“Your plan was good,” she said. “But you made a mistake. You think that when Aizen joins with the hogyoku, it will make them both vulnerable for a moment. It happens with the arrancar, in a way, so of course the same would be said for both pieces when Aizen joins them. But you’re wrong. The hogyoku will become indestructible the moment it has a body to fuse to, and Aizen will be immortal. You’ll turn on him just in time to be killed.”

Gin’s eyes were open. He was listening.

“I know you want to destroy the hogyoku to return the missing pieces of Rangiku’s soul to her. But it won’t work. You see, the only person in the universe who can destroy the hogyoku and free the souls inside of it… is me.”

“Now what I’d like to know,” Gin said, drawl gone, voice like ice. “Is where a nice girl like you learned about such nasty things.”

“We don’t have time to get into that.” Orihime said. “In three days Rukia Kuchiki will be rescued from her execution, and Aizen will reveal himself to soul society. You, Aizen, and Tousen will flee to Hueco Mundo.”

“A shinigami in Hueco Mundo? Now that doesn’t seem to wise, does it?”

“Just listen,” she said. “I’m not here to threaten you. I’m trying to help you.”

He waited.

“You should carry on exactly as you were going to. Follow Aizen’s orders, betray your friends, I don’t care. But don’t wait until the last minute to kill him. It will be so, so long from now, but when Aizen finally decides to make the key in the living world, and leave Hueco Mundo, attack him then. As soon as he goes to retrieve the Hogyoku, kill him. I’ll have the rest taken care of, Hogyoku included.”

He was silent, for a moment, before finally he once again resumed his lounging position. “That’s a nice story an’ all,” he drawled. “But there’s just one problem. I don’t think you can destroy the hogyoku. Fact is, I think yer tryin’ to play me, and I gotta say, I don’t like it much.”

“I can’t tell anyone about your position,” she said. “Least of all Aizen. It will ruin my plans.”

“Never did care much for schemers.”

“You’re a schemer!”

He laughed a little, beneath his b

reath. “Well ideally, I’d like ta be the only one.”

“What, so, I’m supposed to believe you’re just going to kill me? Here in Rangiku’s apartment of all places?”

His grin broadened. “You cert’enly wouldn’t be tha first.”

Good point. “Listen to me,” she snapped. “You can cooperate with me, or do your own thing. I’m only telling you this for Rangiku’s sake.”

“And what does Ran have to do with any of it?”

“Well she’s gonna have her heart broken when you die, for one.”

“... When, huh?”

“When,” Orihime repeated.

“So then you’re from the future,” Gin mused. “Is that right?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Prove it.”

“Your bankai’s name is Kamishini no Yari. Its real ability is the power to leave a shard behind in whoever you stab, and poison them.”

He regarded her for a long, long moment.

“No one knows that,” he said, finally. “Not even Ran. I believe you.”

“So then do we have a deal? You’ll kill Aizen before he joins with the hogyoku?”

“I s’pose I gotta.”

She stood. “I’m going to try to mitigate all the damage you three are trying to sew. I’ll be sure to get in your way, but I won’t stop you from leaving. I… I’ve thought about it, and I can’t stop the arrancar from being created. As horrible as it is, they’re people too, and so Aizen will just have to create them with his hogyoku.”

“And if he decides to feed Urahara’s to his early? Become a god on a whim?” He tilted his head. “Assumin’ ya know about that.”

“I do,” she said. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it handled.”

There was a noise as the lock on Rangiku’s door began to jiggle.

“That’d be my six o’ clock,” he grinned wide at her. “You best be leavin’.”

Orihime rolled her eyes and stood, heading for the window. “You better be good to her, Ichimaru, you hear me?”

He just stared at her, smiling pleasantly.

Orihime narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head, just before jumping out the window. As she floated to the ground, she could just barely make out Rangiku as she purred Gin’s name. The window shut a moment later.

In the street and finished with the day’s mission, Orihime found the nearest manhole and took to the sewers, where she was certain to be hidden until her next encounter.


	9. By a time to rise and a time to fall

Orihime crawled out of the sewers early on the morning of August forth, quickly making her way into the tenth division brackets. About her, there were plenty of people beginning to rise. Orihime needed to be inconspicuous, which meant she needed to not be coated in grime and sweat. She needed a pair of clothes that actually fit her, she needed to put her hair up, and she needed to have the sheath of a sword on her body. She knew where she could get all those things, but it was admittedly a risk.

She took to Ran’s place.

Around the barracks, there were plenty of officers beginning to rise as she crept quietly through the halls and up to Ran’s room. By some sort of luck no one gave Orihime a second glance.

She made it safely to Rangiku’s room before realizing that the lieutenant was prone to sleeping in quite late; she would still be asleep. Orihime had already come all that way, but there wasn’t much she could do to get Rangiku out of the room.

Or, rather, nothing polite.

It was only a matter of time before someone took a look at her and realized she wasn’t from around there.

She decided to forgo her manners and began knocking loudly on Ran’s door. There was no answer, at first, but that was to be expected. She started up another round of knocking, and then finally a third chorus.

“I’m coming!” Rangiku yelled from within. She didn’t sound happy. “Give me a second! Damn!”

Orihime took a small step back, just as the door flew open.

Rangiku’s hair was in complete disarray, and her robes where clumsily arranged. She smelled slightly like sake and her makeup was smeared. “Huh? What do you want?”

“Lieutenant Matsumoto,” she bowed. “Captain Hitsugaya sent me to retrieve you. He said it was urgent.”

“What?” She groaned. “Why not send a butterfly, ne?”

Orihime paused. _Crap. Good point._ “He said you would ignore it, ma’am.”

Rangiku sagged against the doorway. “Well, that’s true.”

_She bought it!_

“Guess I’m doing my makeup in the office again,” she grumbled. She pushed her hair away from her forehead, arranging it somewhat more presentably. “Good thing I keep a complete morning routine kit under the couch… what are you still here for?”

“Ah, right! F-Forgive me, ma’am, I just... of course.”

“Whatever.” Rangiku brushed past her, closing the door behind her. She started down the hall, pausing only for a moment at the end. “Hey, girl.”

Orihime stiffened. Had she been figured out somehow?

“Keep sharp. You don’t want to get injured out there. Cute thing like you needs to stay on her guard, right, sister?” She smiled and winked.

Orihime blushed. “R-right!”

Rangiku was gone, then.

Orihime turned to her door, summoning her fairies to slip inside the lock. “That was close,” she told them. “I forgot how I get when she flirts.”

“We didn’t,” Tsubaki muttered. He was blushing too, though, so Orihime ignored him.

The door slid open. “Ah, thank goodness!” Orihime rushed into Rangiku’s room, noticing that there was a bunch of half-eaten takeout strewn haplessly about the room. Rangiku had never been the perfect roommate, but she hadn’t been a slob, either. Orihime was almost surprised to see what the woman lived like when she was alone.

Still, she took to Rangiku’s shower, sighing when blood and grime began to come out of her hair. She used Ran’s soaps and oils and took her time indulging in the hot water. Rangiku would be out all day with all the things happening around the soul society, and pretty soon would be distracted by the fight Chad was going to have with Captain Shunsui. Orihime had the place to herself.

She cleaned her underwear in the sink and used one of the old-fashioned hair dryers Rangiku must have nabbed from the living world to dry her laundry out, then changed into one of Rangiku’s uniforms. Clean and fresh, and feeling much more like herself, she reclined in Rangiku’s bed, breathing in the familiar scent of the woman’s sweat and perfume.

She dozed, for a time.

The door slid open, suddenly. Orihime blinked awake, confused for a moment, before her heart kicked into double time. She sat up, just in time to face a wide-eyed Rangiku.

For a moment, they stared at each other.

“You again,” Rangiku said after a moment. “What… what are you doing in my room?”

 _Think, think, think! What would be believable and get me off the hook? Stalking? Looking around for plots connected to Gin? Wait. Gin. A connection to Gin. Oh this is dumb this isn’t going to work this is so stupid oh--_ Orihime sat up a little straighter, sticking out her bottom lip like they did in the movies. “Oh no,” she purred, and did her best not to show how utterly stupid she felt as the words tumbled form her pouting lips. “Ichimaru-kun said you wouldn’t be back until later. I guess the surprise is ruined.”

Rangiku’s eyes narrowed in slight suspicion. “What?” Slowly, she closed her door, stepping further inside. Her eyes darted around, feeling the room out for any signs of a trap, it seemed.

Orihime hadn’t attended half of her high school classes, towards the end of her final year, and she’d still been getting top marks. She knew how to bullshit.

“He didn’t tell me the basics,” she continued in what she hoped was a sultry voice, “Only that I needed to get you out of your room and set up for when you came back. He said I’m an apology of sorts. Most guys send flowers, but hey, I guess there’s no reason not send an entire Sakura instead.” _I guess that’s my sex-worker name now! This is out of control! She’s going to know and she’s going to kill me and it’s going to be very embarrassing!_

Rangiku was silent for two more seconds.

“He did say I’d get the rest of the apology later,” she murmured, suddenly. She reached up and touched the ring on her necklace, absently. “I thought he…” She turned to Orihime. “This isn’t him breaking up with me, is it? He’s not leaving me? I thought… it sounded like…”

Orihime hadn’t realized they were together-together. “Kind of an expensive gift for a break-up present, don’t you think?” _Apparently I’m a high-end sex worker now._ “He didn’t strike me as the sentimental type.” _Just the kinda guy to leave a bad taste in your mouth._

Another beat passed.

“Well.” Suddenly, Rangiku’s eyelids dropped to half-mast, and she was slipping the side of her robe off of her shoulder. “It’s rude not to unwrap a present when you get one, don’t you think?”

 _Guess I’m having sex with Rangiku early this play-through._ “Terribly so, ma’am.”

“Then I guess I better get to it, shouldn’t I?” She sunk down onto her knees, hovering above Orihime, and reached for the tie to her robe.

“Yeah,” Orihime breathed. “I guess you should.”

 

~(o0o)~

 

After a few rounds, Orihime and Rangiku had both fallen asleep. They were rudely awaken by a sudden flux of high spiritual pressure. Orihime flew up in bed, hair a tangled tussle about her face, and gasped.

For some damn reason, Ichigo and Shuuhei were fighting. It took everything in Orihime not to groan in annoyance. She’d gone out of her way to take Renji out of Ichigo’s path, and he got caught up fighting Hisagi instead? Typical.

“The Ryoka,” Rangiku muttered, grimmly. “They better not mess Shuu up.” She turned to Orihime, eyes softening. “I’ve got to go,” she said, and quickly darted forward for one last messy kiss. “You can shower and change here, if you want to. Lock the door on your way out. Oh, here--” she rolled over and fumbled in her desk for a second before shoving a small parcel full of coins into Orihime’s grasp. “Your tip.”

“Ichimaru covered all charges,” Orihime tried to protest, unhappy with the idea that she was essentially robbing Rangiku.

“I know what it’s like. A tip goes a long way. I’m not going to let you refuse it.” She stood and began to rearrange herself. “Duty calls. I have to go, but maybe I’ll see you again? What squad are you from?”

“Um, fourth.”

“Squad four. Got it.” She stood and made hurriedly for the door. “See you around, Sakura.”

 _Oh boy. Now I have that to deal with_. “B… Bye.”

She waited a moment before she collected herself and left. There weren’t officers hanging around in the barracks, but she could feel plenty rushing about elsewhere. Moreover, she could feel Ichigo and Hisagi. What had possessed Hisagi to approach Ichigo, she had no idea. It felt like Ichigo was getting his ass handed to him, though.

She would just have to trust he’d make it through, just like he’d made it with Renji.

Renji.

Hisagi, Renji, and Kira were all very close. Maybe this was about Renji’s disappearance; Hisagi had been his friend. Boyfriend? She didn’t know, just that they spent a lot of time together. It was possible that this was all connected.

Either way, it wasn’t her place. She was only interested in making sure no one died and that the timeline continue apace. She had considered talking to Hitsugaya, and now that Rangiku was out of the way she was certain that it was worth a shot. She quickly made her way to his office.

She found many of the divisions in chaos on her way there. She was surprised by how much was going on, just because of their small task force. She’d thought, back in the day, that they had been no more than a fly buzzing about a giant’s ear. Now, she was seeing just how great a threat they’d really posed.

Getting in to see Hitsugaya was easy enough. He was dwarfed by a mountain of paperwork, so it was a simple matter to grab a handful of papers off a random desk on her way to his door and present herself as a delivery girl. She was let in to where Hitsugaya was scribbling away furiously at a pile of documents.

“Toshiro,” she started. She didn’t even bother with the fake documents--she dumped them in his trash.

He looked up quickly, eyes narrowed at her. “That’s Captain Hitsugaya to you.”

“Toshiro,” she repeated. She came to stand over his chair, intense. “We don’t have much time before I have to get out of here. I’m sure Rangiku will come back soon.”

“Who are you?”

“Ichimaru Gin isn’t the one you need to be concerned about.”

“What?” He furrowed his brow at her, almost angrily.

“I know you think something’s up with him. I know you supposedly overheard things. But it was all planted evidence. Ichimaru is the scapegoat.”

“How would you even know any of this?” He demanded. “Who told you that I--”

“No one told me, because you haven’t told anyone yourself yet.” At least, she was pretty sure that was true. She hoped she wasn’t just standing there looking like a crazy person. She plowed on regardless: “It’s not Gin.”

“Then who?” He pressed.

She turned to leave.

“Stop.” The sound of Toshiro unsheathing his sword gave Orihime pause. “Who?”

“Aizen,” she said quickly. She left the room before he could press her further.

 

~(o0o)~

 

The reality of her escapade into soul society was that there was very little for her to do in order to change the timeline. After speaking with Toshiro she quickly disappeared underground again, where she spent the time tracking her friends progress via there spiritual energy and, at times, napping. By the time the morning of August fifth finally came around, she was itching to actually do something again.

Orihime crawled up out of the sewers at three in the morning, humming quietly to herself as she made her way cheerfully about the barracks. She didn’t remember where exactly it was that Aizen had planted his fake body, but she figured it would be in the fifth division somewhere. No one was out and about, as it was still pitch out. It didn’t take long to come across the corpse and long line of blood spilling down the side of the building.

She first surveyed the area to be certain Aizen was not about. She was relatively sure he’d already made his way to central forty six, where he would take over control of the soul society. She didn’t sense him, but she walked into the area carefully regardless, keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of activity. Not even a hell butterfly stirred the early morning air. For just a moment, everything was at peace.

Aizen’s death had been exactly what sparked so much fighting amongst the divisions, and Orihime wanted to avoid that. More than that, she wanted to stick it to Aizen, who probably thought he was all that. His plan was a good one, admittedly, but she would sooner chew off her own foot than give the man any kudos.

“Hm-hm-hm-hm-hm,” she skipped up to the impaled body. Always so dramatic. He couldn't have just dumped a slashed-throat body somewhere? He had to pin himself up for the world to see? Hey, wait, that was another bit of butterfly symbolism! How weird. One would think Aizen would have compared himself to something cool, like, say, a racoon. Or something else. She admittedly didn’t know what people thought was cool, but butterflies didn’t seem to make the list.

The power she used next had taken her a great amount of time to perfect. She remembered having to convince Uryuu to take her up to the dome, back during Ulquiorra and Ichigo’s fight in Hueco Mundo. She had blamed herself for his injuries, having been the one who forced him to go to the fight. After that, she’d worked tirelessly at learning how to move herself with her powers, so that she wouldn’t have to rely on him like that again.

She was grateful for that practice, now.

She created a panel with her shields and stepped onto it, lifting herself into the air and up to the fake body. Much like a real body, it was heavy, and the open eyes creeper her out. She reached up under the glasses and pulled the eyelids closed, grimacing.

“Gross,” she muttered. She’d forgotten that he wasn’t on some sort of lance or pole. He was impaled with a sword. Grabbing the handle, she started tugging, groaning when it didn’t come loose immediately. “Come on, are you kidding me?” She pulled, tugging with both her hands, though she was mindful of the drop behind her. It was be just her luck for the sword to come flying out of his chest and, with her momentum, she would fall off her shield and to her death. “Stupid thing, come on!” She put her foot beside Aizen’s body and started pulling harder.

“Hey!”

Orihime paused. “Oh crumpets.” she turned around, and far below, was some random unseated officer. She didn’t recognize him. “Hi!”

“What are you doing up there?”

“Uh.” Removing a corpse, stupid, what does it look like? “Me and Captain Aizen here are just… cleaning up this blood. From one of the intruders that got killed. You know how he likes to help.”

“Do you need any more help, sir?”

Orihime blinked down at the guy. Was he stupid? “Uh. He lost his voice but he just said no, it’s okay. Have a nice day!”

“... Okay!” The man started on his way.

Orihime turned back to her task. “They’ve got to get their crap together,” she muttered, taking to frantically tugging at the sword. “I mean, really? Really!” Not that she was complaining. She was glad he’d bought it.

Finally, the sword came free. Orihime stumbled back, but didn’t fall off her shield. “Ha!” The body slumped awkwardly from the building and to its knees, on her shield. Aizen’s glasses fell off his face, skittered forwards, and dropped down, down, down to the ground below. Orihime watched them shatter and winced. “Oops.”

She turned back to the body. “Not like you need them, anyway. I mean really, how long did you wear fake glasses? Weirdo.” Body collected, Orihime took them to the ground. The long streak of blood was sort of par for the course around Soul Society, and they didn’t have DNA testing from what she’d seen, so she decided not to bother. She would probably raise more questions by standing there trying to clean it off. The glasses, though, she did take the time to pick up. Leave it to someone like Momo to find them and raise an even bigger fuss.

Quickly, she made her way back into the sewers, where she set the body on the ground before pushing the admittedly heavyweight into the sewer waters. She cringed and danced away from the splash zone as his body sunk, bubbling as it went. The waters turned brownish red around him before dispersing. The body was gone a moment later.

“Okay,” she slumped against a wall and let out a long breath. “Check that off the list. Gee wiz. I mean, come on. Come on! I hope that plan took him years. I hope that took him, him, a thousand years and I just ruined it in two seconds. Oh gosh darn it I’ve got blood on my kitty socks!”

This was all just a little bit more than she’d asked for.

She took a small notebook out of her pocket. She’d cleaned her clothes from the living world back at Rangiku’s, in the sink, and so they were neatly folded next to her. She’d been keeping the notebook there, with them, but worried someone would happen upon it.

The day’s itinerary was full. Ichigo was going to fight Kenpatchi, and Chad was going to fight Shunsui. Ichigo would get whisked away from another fight with Byakuya by Yoruichi and thus would begin his three days of bankai training. Then Uryuu would fight Mayuri. Originally, Kira and Mom would have fought, and later on, Gin and Hitsugaya, but she was almost certain she’d smoothed over all that nonsense.

So that once again left nothing for her to do.

She contemplated another run up to Ran’s, but she didn’t want to push her luck. Besides, she hadn’t transported herself back into the past for something as dumb as sleeping with Rangiku again. Though, realistically, she hadn’t done it for anything nobel either. Whatever, she was taking it all in stride.

It was going to be okay.

She just stayed beneath ground and let things play out. All was as she predicted, for the most part. There was the added surprise, later, of Renji fighting Kira, but the end result was the same for everyone: they ended up in jail, Renji included. But that didn’t matter all that much. In fact--

Orihime heard a noise behind her and had just enough time to feel her heart startle before the world went black.

 

~(o0o)~

 

“--me. Orihime! Orihime, wake up, please! He’s coming back!”

Orihime sluggishly opened her eyes.

She didn’t know where she was, but her wrists were bound behind her back and she was tied to a chair. Her mouth was gagged and around her was some sort of kiddo box. Ayame, her fairy, was hovering before her.

 _Ayame?_ Orihime thought very hard at the fairy. _What happened? How long was I out?_

“Rukia’s execution is soon!” The fairy hissed. “We have to get out of here.”

Orihime nodded. With her heart, she summoned Tsubaki.

“You’re awake.”

Orihime looked up in surprise. She recognized Tousen right away, but was startled by his appearance. He had not been all that large a player in the scheme of things; he’d always been quiet, though motivated. Orihime had resented him least of all, knowing that he was doing what he truly did believe to be right. Even Gin, who was doing this all for Rangiku, was easily the more evil between them. Sure, Gin did it for love, but he’d never minded killing, had he?

“I’m sorry to have done that. It’s just that you’ve been getting in the way. What squad are you from? Did Ichimaru put you up to this? I’ve suspected him of trying to sabotage us for some time.”

She glared at him and then looked pointedly down at her gag. Then she remembered he was blind and began wiggling around in her chair, letting out muffled screams.

“Of course.” He stepped up to her, hands passing neatly through the kiddo field. His hands were cool and dry against her skin as he carefully removed her gag.

“What’s the big idea, huh?” She started. “We’re in the middle of a war and you start attacking unseated officers? I heard that Kaname Tousen was a man of honor, of justice. And now I come to find he kidnaps innocent girls in his spare time?”

“Innocent girls do not go about hiding in sewers and disposing of bodies.” He produced her notepad. “What is this? How did you happen to come by these facts? I have followed your predictions for today and found them all to be nearly perfect guesses at the future.”

Orihime had been planning to use her big lie on some other shinigami, but Tousen worked just fine. “The power of my zanpakuto is divination. Usually, I can only tell my openets next few moves in battle. But in the middle of may something happened and my power went crazy. I saw the future clearly for the first time. And I knew I had to stop the deviation to come.”

“That’s a very nice story,” Kaname said. He frowned. “But you are lying.”

“Wh--” She wasn’t used to being called out so easily. “How can you say that? I--” She paused as the field lowered. Kaname muttered a string of spells and suddenly Orihime was floating upright and begin dragged through the air.

“You’re coming with us,” Kaname said. “I detest the use of hostages, but your insight is invaluable. Please understand that this is all for the betterment of our society.”

“I don’t care how great you think it’s going to be!” She grunted as she struggled against her invisible bonds. “Millions of innocent people are going to die!”

“The ends justifies the means.”

Orihime swallowed as panic started to rise up in her throat. “F-families, children! Y-your own squad will take huge losses!”

“For the cause there is much that must be lost.”

The bonds weren’t coming loose. “But--”

“Be silent now,” he began another Kiddo.

“Sh-shuuhei will die!”

Kaname stopped walking.

Orihime swallowed around the lie. He’d sensed it before. She had to be careful now. “Shuuhei dies,” she tried, quietly. “In the final battle between the arrancar and soul society. He dies.”

“How?” Kaname asked.

“You kill him.”

For a moment, she was certain it had worked. She felt the bonds loosen and began to attempt discretely moving down to her feet. Then, they pulled taught against her, so tight she felt the air choke from her lungs.

“Then it was for a just reason,” he said. “Shuuhei would understand.”

 _No!_ All her careful planning and scheming! “What are you going to do to me?”

“You can see the future,” he said. “You will traverse with Aizen and the rest of our party to Huceo Mundo, where your predictions will be used to secure our goals.”

It was too early. There was just no way that Ichigo and the others could win the war yet, and if they tried to come and save her, there was a good chance they’d die for good. Orihime renewed her struggle. “No, no!”

“You will see the honor in it. With you, there will be less need for killing.”

“I won’t help you!”

“You will,” he said, certainly. “I am sorry to do this to you. But it must be this way. While Ichimaru and Aizen have been running central forty six, I have been watching, and these sightless eyes have seen you. When I present you to Aizen, he will see the wonder in you just as I have.”

That meant… that meant that Aizen didn’t know about her yet.

Tousen was probably the only one.

And that meant she had a chance.

“I refuse,” she said, voice trembling. Then, stronger; “I reject!”

The kiddo shattered around her. Tousen turned, startled, but she was on him before his sword had completely cleared its sheath. “I reject!” Her fairies made a bubble around his head. Kaname dropped to the ground, clawing at the shield and fumbling for his sword at the same time. She ignored him as he came closer to her, hands reaching.

“I reject,” she told him, and very carefully, she took the last three days from his mind.

He struggled valiantly for a moment more before slowly he lost the fight. Finally, he lay still on the floor. Orihime was sure that he was alright, though she was not certain what effects reversing three days would have on him. She was certain that the memories of her were gone, and that was what mattered. Quickly, she sensed her way out of his division and flashed her way up to the execution grounds, were very soon, Aizen would reveal himself. She hadn’t realized, though, the extent to which her shun shun rika had been depleted--the field from before must have been proposed as such. She felt herself trip and then her sight grew dim. She tumbled, knowing she wouldn’t be under for long, but even a moment would be too much.

Shaken by her encounter with Kaname, she made sure to wrap her spiritual pressure about her extra tightly, so that no one would be able to sense her. She’d been caught off guard, which had not happened in a long time. It was a reminder that she wasn’t perfect, and that even as advanced beyond her current years as she was, she could still lose. She had to stay sharp, or she’d fall prey to the same traps that had felled her the first time around, or the new ones that lay in her path. Now, all she could do was wait to wake up again, and start over.

Her eyes fluttered open to the feeling of Menos. She took a quick stock of herself and gathered that while her powers were not completely restored, she had enough. She reminded herself that she was rusty and could not push herself as much as she had during the thousand year blood war. She made her way to the top of the exeuction grounds just as Aizen was rising up above their heads.

“I will find it!” Aizen told them all. “And when I do, I will rise above all of you.”

She stepped up quickly in front of her friends.

“Orihime!”

She didn’t look back at them, even though she wanted to smile at the relief in their voices. “I have a message from Kisuke,” she stated proudly. “About what you’re looking for.”

Aizen’s eyes snapped to her. Clear. Perfectly focused. She felt a chill pass through her, but she did not back down. Straight faced and determined, she relayed her message:

“Try again. Bitch.”

His gaze did not leave her until he was gone. He looked smug. Too smug. Like he was certain he would still win. She didn’t want to admit it, but Aizen still scared her. She swallowed and turned around to face the chaos. After all, there was still a lot of cleanup to do. Even though Aizen was gone and the battle was over, she still felt tense.

Rangiku was there.

“Sakura…” She said, blinking. “What was that?”

Orihime choked on a laugh. “Oh Ran,” she said, and fell into the other woman’s arms. “I’ve got so many issues.”

 

~(o0o)~

 

Clean up took a week. In that time, Orihime established herself as the voice of her group. She demanded that Ichigo be instated as a true substitute shinigami in return for his allegiance in the coming war, which all of soul society seemed to feel was an inevitability. She also made them promise free passaged to the entire group between the living and spirit realms, and though Yammamoto had not liked it, he had relented eventually.

Orihime explained herself to Ran as best as she could, and though the other woman had been annoyed, they had come out of it all as friends. Ichigo healed up with the rest of the group, free of her help, and Orihime was sure to spend as much time as she could with them, reciting small (fake) petty battles between herself and various unseated officers. It helped that several unseated officers had claimed she’d been the one to lay them out. She didn’t know why that rumor was so popular, but frankly she did not care. She supposed they wanted to look important.

The victory over Aizen seemed hollow, given what was to come. Orihime felt like the entire trip had been one small step towards the war. A simple footnote in the long epic that was Ichigo’s glory. A magnificent sona of his impossible victory, shadowed by the ones that would be sung about his future.

She wanted to weep for what the world would do to him. To them.

To her.

The damage was already done on her side, though. She’d been given a second chance, and so she would make sure that they, too, got their do-over. She plotted quietly and kindly and listened again and again as her friends recalled Ichigo’s endless splendor--beating the unbeatable, destroying the execution stand, rallying soul society with his iron will. She’d stand by and watch as Rukia’s looks softened, even as the fear of loving again crept into her eyes. She’d stand by as the others laughed about this one, single crazy summer, and how this would be something they’d tell their grandkids.

Oh, she wanted to tell them, no. We will not tell our children of this. We will lock away these simple traumas and we will hold our victories from the light. We will deny our truths because there will always be blood in them. Ichigo would resent his father for all the time he said nothing, but had they any children, she knew Ichigo had planned to do the same. To take the easy route. To live vicariously through his son, wishing and longing the whole while.

She wondered when she would have died to fuel her own child’s backstory, should Ichigo have finally relented and given her a baby. She wondered if Ichigo would have told them, or if he would have been like Isshin and kept it quiet--if the boy legend story would continue on and on and on into infinity, a thousand million broken hearts crying out as one, please, please, please let us be!

We are only children.

But she stood by, quiet, and said nothing.

_This is my burden to bear alone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is as half-assed as the picture but we're FINALLY to part two, where we can get to the MEAT baby!


	10. PART II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the last chapter I have:  
> move in to an apartment with my BFF  
> been in a car wreck (not my fault so hell yeah insurance pay out!)  
> got a new job at Ulta  
> got throw-up drunk for the first time ever (unrelated to the ulta thing)  
> Quit Ulta (fuck you, slimy company)  
> gotten a new job I actually like (yay preschool teacher!)  
> And now have gotten strep throat for the first time. Ugh.   
> So there's my list of excuses for why this chapter took 800000 years. I've been busy! Also, thank you to everyone who keeps letting me know about errors. I will eventually fix them, but right now I'm focussed on just writing new content haha. Finally, the reveal everyone's been waiting for.

P A R T  T W O

II

 

The truth was, she missed him.

She missed Ichigo.

Before they had been spouses, they had been friends of a sort, and she’d loved him. It had been bad towards the end, but living with him had been welcome at first. She’d hated living by herself. The long nights and the binge-eating in front of the television, watching crime shows that made her feel icky on the inside. She’d hated it. So living with Ichigo had been so wonderful at first. Eating dinner together. Watching rented movies some nights. He’d never let her stay up too late, calling her to come sleep before it grew late enough to give her bags beneath her eyes. 

Maybe he had not ever been in love with her, but he had loved her in his far-off way. He’d been an older brother to her. Admittedly, that had complicated things when they began their back and forth pity-comfort sex, but she’d… she’d loved him. 

Orihime stared up at the window of their old apartment. She’d stopped walking there on autopilot a few months ago. For once she had meant to come there, and she looked up at the empty building with sad eyes. They would finish construction within the year. She wanted nothing more than to go inside and sit on the couch, open a bag of chips, and watch a stupid comedy with Ichigo.

But that would never happen again.

As things were, she would say that she was the least tightly knit into the group. While the other three of the karakura gang grew closer together, she felt further and further from them. She could not connect to them as she had been able to in the past, knowing now that they were only boys, and she a grown woman in a child’s body. They laughed and shoved at each other during lunch, played jokes and made faces and talked about games and she sat there, remembering the nights she’d healed them all from the brink of death. 

There was a distant rumble of thunder.

She remembered very well the day that she would be taken. They would come for her in the morning, and she would be alone all over again. The thought of returning to Hueco Mundo would have been unbearable were it not for the fact that she felt as though she were finally doing what needed to be done. The war had been a long time coming, and she was a hundred years too late to stop it completely.

Without the second hogyoku, she had worried she would have to intervene with the creation of the arrancar. Aizen seemed certain that he would have Kisuke’s creation, one way or another. She wondered if maybe Aizen was going to kidnap her for ransom, or if he had gotten wise to the fact that Kisuke no longer possessed the hogyoku and perhaps now thought that she had it. There were a thousand reasons Aizen might come for her, but she that whatever the cause, he certainly would come. Some things, she found, stayed the same in the timeline, even if she did not think they would. Some things changed. But the course of time could not be swayed over everything.

A water droplet fell on Orihime’s shoulder. She looked up into the dark night sky and squinted at the clouds gathered there. It was beginning to sprinkle. She frowned and turned away from the building she’d been standing at for hours. 

_ It would be reasonable,  _ she thought,  _ to go home before I catch a cold. _

The rain, though, was dear to her, and she likened herself to it in all ways. She walked slowly, and did not take the train. She let herself become soaked and cold, until she was shivering nearly violently as she moved through the streets and back to her childhood apartment.

It was stupid, and childlike. And yet, it felt good. It felt good to just be dumb on a whim! She laughed at the thought. Wouldn't it be such a way to catch her death? Dying of a cold after everything she'd been through? Rain sliding down her face, she let out a small chuckle, and then beamed, and began to truly guffaw. She laughed and laughed, splashing her feet in puddles as she began to run. Who cared! She was alive, and the rain felt good, damn it!

She burst through the door to her apartment, still laughing, and shut the door behind her. It was dark, but the room was lit by brief flashes of lightning. She loved the light, the electricity of it all. She shucked her shoes and peeled off her wet socks while giggling, and she shimmied out of her trousers, and her shirt. She locked the door behind her with another laugh and sprinted to her room, nearly skipping.

She opened the door. A flash of lightning illuminated the bedroom.

There was someone sitting on her bed.

Orihime stopped cold, throat caught suddenly in her heart. She stumbled back a step, eyes wide, mouth shut tight as she stared in surprise. 

“Shun shun--”

“Stop.”

She knew that voice. Cold metal settled gently on her collarbone. She followed the gleam of a sword to its handle, and to the hand who held it; near-white and sporting black nails. She followed the hand to the arm, clad in a white uniform with black trim, and followed that arm up to the shoulder, to the throat, to the face--

“Don’t scream.” He demanded. 

For some reason, an insane idea occurred to her. For the briefest moment she thought that he, too, had come back in time, and was finally revealing himself to her now that the plot demanded it. 

“Ulquiorra,” she whispered.

He revealed himself from the shadows. He may have been surprised. He may not have been. It did not show, either way. “Orihime Inoue,” he said. He kept his sword perched with its edge quite close to her throat. 

He was not from the future. He had… changed. Or, rather, been born differently. He was still Ulquiorra, undeniably so, but there were differences in him. He had a pointy ear poking out from the hair on the side of his head not covered by a helmet. When he spoke her name, she saw the flash of slightly longer canines. His coat had a diamond-shaped window in the chest, displaying his hollow hole. 

They were back at the very beginning. There was no understanding in those viridian eyes. This was a Ulquiorra who had made no strives for the human heart. This was a man who did not yet know that such a thing existed. 

It sent a chill through her; her skin prickled with goosebumps. 

“It’s pretty rude,” she said, slowly, “To surprise someone in their underwear.”

“You are sufficiently covered,” he said. “You will comply. I have been instructed to bring you to Hueco Mundo.”

She lifted her brows. “Aren’t you going to threaten me first?”

He blinked at her, for a moment. “Do you require it?”

“Well it seems a little bit suspect for me to just ferry off into the night with you all on my own, doesn’t it?” She crossed her arms, hoping to cover up her cleavage and to appear a little more intimidating. If she did scare him, he didn’t show it, and he certainly didn’t glance at her breasts.

“I did not take you to be as childish as your years. Do I need to explain to you what is at stake? You have no bargaining tools, woman. If you know of the hogyoku, you know what it can create. Considering you knew my name, I would take it you understand the power of the arrancar. Lord Aizen suspected our surveillance did not go one way.”

Yeah, well, any spying done on their part was all Kisuke, so she had no idea what was waiting for her, really. She decided to ignore the last comment. “So what then? You’ll kill me if I don’t come with you?”

“In our observations, we have found your friends to be your weakness, foolish as it may be. You hold the rope to the guillotine that hangs above their necks.”

It was all very familiar. She found herself smiling, of all things, snorting on a laugh. “Do I?”

He tilted his head and regarded her in consideration, like a dog considering an animal it had never encountered before. “I will confront Kurosaki Ichigo in the morning, then. You may or may not warn him, it matters not. There will be time enough to demonstrate the power we hold. And when we have defeated the boy, I will return for you, and you will come without struggle. Do you understand?”

“I hear you,” she said. She reached up and took the tip of his blade between her thumb and index finger, gingerly removing it from her throat. “Next time, knock on the door. I’d like to be dressed if I’m going to Los Noches.”

“...In fact, I will expect you to be dressed,” he said. He turned and pushed the door to her room back open, flicking on the light. The white dress was laid out over the covers. “This, however, you will keep secret. Or I will will kill one of your friends the moment I arrive.” 

“Harsh conditions. Don’t I even get to try it on and see if I like it first?”

“None of us get to try it on,” he said. “We are born this way.”

She knew what he was saying. In fact, it hurt her heart, to think about. Still, he was the opposition, and she wasn’t about to start letting him get to her before she’d even been kidnapped. So: “You’re all born wearing dresses? Well that must make it hard to tell one person apart from another.”  
He narrowed his eyes at her. “I will come for you tomorrow evening, woman. Be ready.”

A garganta opened up behind Ulquiorra, and he stepped easily back into it. Reality sewed its mouth around him, and he was gone. 

Outside, the storm raged on.

“Shit.” Orihime took one shaky step forward before she found herself sitting on the ground, head in her hands. She’d forgotten how intense he could be. And for that matter… “I forgot how hot he is.”

After collecting herself, Orihime angrily stuffed the dress into the closet. After drying off and changing into presentable pajamas in case she had any other unexpected nighttime visitors, she fell into bed and was asleep within the hour.

 

~(o0o)~

 

The dress was different than the one she’d been wearing the first time around. The sleeves had been removed, and there was a black belt hanging at her waist. The skirt portion opened up in two slits over her legs, revealing hakama beneath. Moreover, they had equipped her with white shoulder armor, a cape, and long white gloves.

“Looks like Aizen’s taking me a bit more serious,” She muttered as she twisted in the mirror. “That, or Ulquiorra. I never did find out who made my dress.” The mental image of Ulquiorra at a sewing machine, pins hanging from his mouth while he furrowed his brows in concentration made her laugh. 

It was eerie, though, that they’d known her exact measurements. She went ahead and sewed pockets into the dress, for her own convenience and largely just to spite them, but otherwise she could not find any reason to alter the dress. She thought about sewing a knife or something into it secretly, but cast the idea aside. It would only come back to bite her in the end.

_ Wouldn’t it be funny, though, if I showed up at Los Noches with like. A gun? Just. Hi Aizen! Eat lead! Boom, war over. Yeah, sure, good luck finding a gun Orihime. This isn’t America, you can’t just get one out of a vending machine. _

She packed a bag, hoping Ulquiorra would permit it. Underwear, toiletries, the basics. But mostly a lot of books. She’d been bored out of her mind in Los Noches most days, so she was most concerned about entertainment. She packed some drawings things, embroidery material, and a jump rope. She wanted to have something fun to do to stay fit, and if worse came to worst, she could always hang herself with it. 

_ Ah, there’s the Orihime I thought left in the future. Guess she’s still here after all.  _

With her bags packed, she set out to the park, where the espada were sure to show up. She made sure to wear her gym clothes, knowing she’d likely get them grass-stained in the fight; if anyone asked, she’d been out for a jog. 

She wasn’t afraid. Not really. Just ready. Aizen had been a thorn in her side for as long as she could remember, and she was perfectly happy to sacrifice a few months to ending him. What she didn’t know was what she was going to  _ do _ . Everything depended on the timing—she had to be able to get to the hogyoku, and Gin had to be able to get to Aizen. She’d have said that Gin should have just taken Aizen out the moment they’d left to Hueco Mundo, but Aizen was sure to keep himself well protected by his loyal arrancar. Gin would be killed in an instant. They had to wait until the moment was ripe.

Which was going to suck.

She was worried, most of all, about her friends. Already Ulquiorras had proven that the timeline was just the slightest bit off—not just because of his physical appearance, but because of his choice to approach her before the battle. She wasn’t entirely certain the battles against the arrancar would go down in the same order or outcome. It was going to be tough to sneak out of her cell in order to play puppeteer for everything. 

Manipulating was so exhausting. How the hell did Kisuke do it? 

Kisuke had sent Yoruichi over several times to try and dissuade her from getting in the way. He knew very little about her powers, but had decided she was not strong enough for the coming conflict, and had warned her against trying to influence events as she had during the intrusion into Soul Society. She had paid Yoruichi generously in bowls of milk and canned tuna, politely but firmly asking the messenger to tell Kisuke to fuck off.

She was pretty sure that Yoruichi was misinterpreting the ‘fuck off’ to ‘fuck me,’ because she seemed more eager for the response every time she showed up. While Orihime hated to be improving Kisuke’s sex life, there was Yoruichi to consider, so she said nothing. 

Mental middle finger in Kisuke’s face, Orihime started out to the park. She wasn’t certain when exactly it had been that Yammy and Ulquiorras had shown up, but she’d decided to just go ahead and skip school regardless. She’d gotten so far ahead in all her classes she was pretty sure the little disappearing act she was about to pull wouldn’t totally fail her out. 

She waited. And waited. And waited. 

Eventually she did actually go for a jog, and then another. She was pretty sure it had been before school had gotten out. She threw herself down on a beech and, ignoring her grumbling stomach, stared at the soon-to-be-cratered grass. 

“What the heck?” She grumbled. She looked up at the sky, checking for garganta. Discovering none, she narrowed her eyes, looking for any UFOs that could had snatched up Ulquiorra and Yammy while she was busy staring at the ground.

Nothing.

Bored, she finally decided to check her phone. To her horror, she found she had one text from Ichigo. While this usually would not have been so horrific—even if he did send her barely legible text messages regularly—this one struck her with the force of an oncoming semi. 

_ From: Strawberry Head _

_ Hye Inoue just fyi your cousin s here he said he ll wait for you tho  _

Orihime Inoue, as a matter of fact, had two cousins, both of whom were women, and both of whom would never drop in out of the blue. The text had been sent to her phone half an hour ago.

Fucking Ulquiorra. 

Orihime threw her senses wide open, cursing herself once again for letting her guard down. Sure enough—there was a very subtle presence at the Kurosaki household which she recognized immediately. Ulquiorra wanted to show her how easily he could take someone out of her life.

Oh, she’d forgotten how much of a bastard he could be!

Orihime ran. She’d been going to dojo with Tatsuki regularly, both out of friendship and to keep herself in shape, but running all the way across town quickly began to wind her. She had no idea what people would see of her if they couldn’t see anything spiritual, but she didn’t care—once she was out of breath, she made her shields into a hover-board of sorts and began to coast across town.

Damn that Ulquiorra! 

Furious, she tied her hair up into a sloppy ponytail as she sailed. Forget waiting until he insulted her friends to slap him across the face. This time, fate had a bitch slap in store for him early. She was going to drag him out of the clinic by his goddamn ear.

She made it to the clinic. Without pausing to knock, she threw the door open and stumbled inside, a sweat-covered, panting mess. The Kurosakis and guest looked up from where they were having tea in the living room, the family in surprised concern, Ulquiorra in what she could only describe as smug threatening.

“You!” She pointed Ulquiorras down. “Are  _ not _ my cousin!”

Ichigo looked between Orihime and Ulquiorra—once, then twice. Clever boy, he immediately added a very helpful, “Huh?”

Ulquiorra placed his teacup down gently on the coffee table, and then stood. 

“Oh no you don’t!” 

Orihime wouldn’t have him traumatizing Yuzu and Karin. She ran at him, leaping over the coffee table, and slammed into his gigai with all the force of a speeding train. His eyes went wide as they both tipped backwards over the back of the couch. His arms reached out in an aborted motion to steady them as they fell, a tangle of limbs and sharp elbows. Orihime clocked her face on the tip of Ulquiorra’s chin, and she was sure she kneed him in the groan as they fell to the floor. She sat up atop of him as soon as they made impact, furious.

“You and I are going to have a talk!”

He narrowed his eyes and moved to pull something from his pocket. She noticed, for a second, that he was wearing dark jeans and a crisp gray v-neck t-shirt. He looked rather nice, actually. But that was besides the point—she grabbed his wrist and yanked it away from his pocket, where he surely had the device to launch him from his fake body.

“Out. Side!” She dragged him bodily to his feet. He resisted, but his fake body held all the strength a lengthy string-bean of a man should have had. She was a stocky five feet two inches of heavy fat and muscle, and she easily kept a firm hold on his wrist, glaring at him all the while. He thought he could take her, human-on-human? Oh boy did he have another thing coming! 

“Inoue, what the hell?” Ichigo said.

“Ichigo, I love you, but stay out of this.” She dragged Ulquiorra past them.

“Thank you for stopping by!” Yuzu said.

Orihime quickly shelved her anger away and stopped at the door, offering a sincere smile and a quick bow. “It was his pleasure, thank you for having him. See you later!” With that, she threw Ulquiorra outside. 

For a moment, she just panted, staring at him, waiting for her face to stop feeling so hot. He stared back cooly, moving his hand down to his pocket. She didn’t care if he released his true form outside—she’d shield the house from him.

“You see, then,” Ulquiorras said.

“I see what? That you’re rude? I already knew that when you barged into my apartment.” She glared at him. “So you can get into your enemy’s house. I get it. You want to show me that you can kill any one of my friends without me ever having time to come help them.”

He nodded. 

“You know, Ulquiorra, you can be a real jerk sometimes.” She finally felt like she had her breath back. “Come on. Let’s start walking to my apartment.” 

He fell into stop with her.

For a moment, it was quiet.

“Where did you get the gigai?” She finally asked.

“Lord Aizen.”

“Oh.” She supposed that made sense. “Is Yammy going to come challenge my friends?”

“Yes,” Ulquiorras said. “He and I will do so tomorrow, to asses the threat that Kurosaki Ichigo presents.”

“If you hurt any of my friends I’ll rebel against you.”

He nodded in understanding. “For this confrontation, no one shall be mortally wounded. You do know, though, that a war is to come. They will fight, eventually. And so too they will die.”

“Sure, pal.” Orihime caught sight of herself in a window and sighed. She had a huge V of sweat down the front of her shirt, and two large circles beneath her arms. Tatsuki had chastised her about her lack of stamina. 

“I am not your pal,” Ulquiorra said.

“Boy, don’t I know it.”

“I am not a boy,” he added. “I am an espada.”

“Espada, don’t I know it.”

Silence. 

She could see her apartment in the distance. “I have some bags I want you to take back,” she said. “I assume you’ll come for me in the evening?”

“What is stopping us from leaving this moment?”

She blinked at him. “You said before that..." She shook her head. "Don’t I get to say goodbye before we go?”

He paused, for a moment, thinking. “Yes,” he finally said. He pulled a silver watch from his pocket. “You may, if you use this.” 

“What is it?” She asked, already knowing.

“It will conceal you from the living,” he said. “You may say goodbye to one person.”

“How am I supposed to say goodbye if they can’t even see me?”

“If you do not wish to, then you may simply leave with me now.”

“Fine,” she grumbled. “Meanie.”

He just looked at her.

They reached her apartment. “I don’t suppose you’d like to let yourself in again,” she muttered, fumbling for her keys. “Sure, sure, when I’m in my underwear and sopping wet you can get in just fine, but when I feel like I’m about to drop dead you have to wait for me to get the door. This deadbolt is a pain, too, it always sticks. I have to use two hands to open it and my landlord won’t do anything about it.” 

“Why are you telling me this?”

“You’re kidnapping me, you have to listen to me complain.” The lock finally came open. “There we go.” To her surprise, Ulquiorra was not the only undead person who had decided to let himself in unannounced in the last twenty-four hours. Rangiku and Toshiro were in the process of making a huge mess by setting up a communications relay in the middle of her living room.

“Sakura!” Despite her best attempts to kick the nickname, Rangiku still liked to teasingly use it. 

“Ran?” That was right. Crap. They’d totally been staying with her when she’d been kidnapped last time. It had slipped her mind. 

Rangiku hugged her hard, and then just as quickly pulled back. “Oh! You’re sweaty!”

“And you’re in my house,” she said.

Rangiku batted her eyelashes. “Aw, I’m sorry we couldn’t call ahead. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all,” Orihime said. “There’s some watermelon in the fridge if you want some.”

“You’re the best.” Rangiku darted forward and kissed her on the cheek. She seemed to notice Orihime’s shadow, then. “And who’s  _ this _ ?” She wrangled her eyebrows at Orihime. 

“This is.” Orihime stopped. Blinked. “Ulquiorra. My… Lover.”

“Oh!” Rangiku gasped. “You’re together?”

“We’re just having sex,” Orihime said. Mentally, she was beating herself over the head with a baseball bat.  _ What the heck is  _ wrong _ with me!? Why did I say that? I’m going to throw myself over the railing and die! _

“Wonderful!” Rangiku decided. She looked to Ulquiorra, then. “Congrats on that, by the way.”

Ulquiorra just stared at the woman.

“He’s shy,” Orihime decided. 

“Oh, I get it. Well, we won’t be in your bedroom, so you can get right to it.”

“I just came to pick up my stuff,” Orihime said. “We’re going to his place for the night.”

“Aw, guess that means you won’t be around to cook dinner?” Rangiku stuck out her bottom lip. “And you always make the best food, too. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your banana bean bread. With the, uh, the sauce on top. What did you call it?”

“Oh, it’s just ketchup and brown sugar heated down to a simple sauce,” she said. “You could honestly just make it yourself, I have all the ingredients.”  _ And no time to write down the recipe.  _ “Or you could call for takeout. I have my favorite places on a list on the fridge.” 

“Yeah, I’m not much of a cook,” Ran laughed. “We’ll order out.”

“Rangiku,” Toshiro snapped. “You are supposed to be working.” He paused. “Hello, Orihime. Thank you for allowing us to use your home.”

“Hi Toshiro.” 

“I’m talking!” Rangiku huffed. “Give me a break!”

Orihime laughed. “I’ll just grab my stuff and get out of your way,” she said. She turned to Ulquiorra. “Lover boy, you stay here.”

He narrowed his eyes at her.

She grinned. “Good boy.” She turned to enter the apartment.

He grabbed her by the wrist and forcibly stopped her. Turning her, he whispered in her ear. “If you think you can use these shinigami to orchestrate an escape, you are wrong. The moment you say anything I will slaughter them both and drag you kicking and screaming to Hueco Mundo. You are entirely too flippant for the grave situation you find yourself in.”

She yanked her arm out of her grasp. “And you’re entirely too flippant about grabbing me. Do it again and we’re going to have problems.” 

His eyes narrowed further.

“Relax,” she commanded him. “I’m just getting my bags. You already made your big scary point. I’m shaken to the very core, really. Just. Wait out here and don’t make a scene.”

“You are not the one in control here.”

“I mean. It’s my house.”

His mouth stayed shut, but his eyes absolutely screamed  _ what!? _

“In and out. Promise.” Impulsive and entirely too bold now that she had him out of her friend’s way, she reached out with her index finger and touched his nose. “Boop!” With that, she flounced around and hurried into the apartment to grab her things. 

Bags in hand, she took one last look around her room. She was pretty sure she’d be back—she had no plans to die while she was away. Still, there was a note of finality in the glance she cast around the place.

She wrote out her note for Toshiro and Rangiku, and left them her keys and a check for the next three months of rent and instructions to deal with her landlord. She asked them to look into getting the stupid dead bolt replaced. She hoped that they could intimated the man into actually doing it.  _ While you’re at it,  _ she wrote,  _ the light above my door needs to be fixed too. It’s been out for like a month now and I can’t see the stupid broken deadlock to get it open.  _

It was nice to think someone else would take care of such things, this once.

Done, and with her dress ready in the bag next to her, she quietly said a few words of casual goodbye to Rangiku and Toshiro. Hugging them both—Rangiku, very happily, and Toshiro with his usual huffing ‘don’t touch me’s—she rejoined Ulquiorra. He looked her up and down, almost as though sizing her up. 

She smiled at him.

“I guess it’s time, then.”

“Get changed,” he ordered her. “I will return for you in two hours. Do not bother fleeing; I will find you.” He reached out to where she’d put the watch on, and pushed the pin on the side in. The watch began ticking, and tightened around her wrist. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to be able to take it off. “Two hours,” he reminded her. 

“Of course, Ulquiorra-san. Here.” She handed him her bags, excluding the one with her dress in it.

He took them with as much dignity as he could muster, staring suspiciously at the cartoon characters on the sides of each bag. He seemed particularly worried about hammataro.

Without another word, he stalked off, presumably to head off to some secret location and open a gargantuan in secret. Orihime looked down at the watch, a thin gleaming thing, and sighed.

“Goodbye, halcyon days,” she muttered. She took off into the evening, feeling a little more like her true self. “Let’s get this over with.”

 

~(o0o)~

 

She did not say goodbye to Ichigo.

It was not that she took back her wish to fall in love with him in five lifetimes. She had enjoyed being in love with him, truly, and it had given her imagination plenty of material to fawn over. She was a little bit in love with him even now, with his dorky scowl and punk bracelets. She knew who he wanted to be, and she loved him for it. But he could never love her the way she wanted, and so even under the threat of dying PTSD-ridden and alone, she would not return to him this lifetime. 

In fact, he was not even her best friend. Amongst the Karakura gang, she would say she was closest first to Chad, even. Ichigo and Ishida were tied for second, sometimes one-upping each other, depending on the day. Her wedding day, for example, Ishida was defiantly her second favorite, while Ichigo came in at a very far away dead last. 

Ahem.

Her best friend in the entire world was still Tatsuki. No matter how weird Orihime was, no matter how changed, Tatsuki was always there for her. She loved the girl, with every corner of her soul, and she was sure that if she hadn’t ventured into the spirit world she would have ended up with Tatsuki. As it was in the last timeline, they’d grown very far apart after the winter war, and as Orihime was unable to tell Tatsuki anything, their friendship eventually broke under the strain of secret keeping and things left unsaid. Last she’d heart, Tatsuki had moved  to Chiwa and married some sweet blond lady from oversees. Orihime had received a wedding invitation picturing the two of them and their black cat. She had been unable to attend due to being in the hospital at the time.

She didn’t like to look back on those days.

Romantically together or not, she was determined to be by Tatsuki’s side this time. They would always be friends in one form or another. A princess and her dragon, though they switched their roles so often; together until the end. This time, she’d move to Chiwa with Tatsuki, and she’d rent an apartment ten minutes away and she’d keep the black cat whenever Tatsuki and her wife went on vacation, and they’d have game nights and dinners together, and Tatsuki would call her up to come over and play dumb video games whenever her wife had long hours at work.

Yeah.

Orihime looked like the ghost of a silk princess. She peered at her reflection in the gas station bathroom, brows pinched together. She had a pimple under her chin and she tucked her head down towards he neck to hide it, trying to gauge how she felt about her dress, rather than herself. 

Damn, but it did look good.

Carefully, Orihime secured her pins to the sheer neckline of the dress, which settled comfortably high on her throat. She pulled the gloves on, which were attached to her sheer cape, and move about in the shitty gas station LEDs. It would do. She certainly looked more woman than girl, and despite her body’s years. She felt more at home that way.

She liked the new high boots, too. They clicked pleasantly against the cracked tile floor, while her dress and hakama swished about her legs. She did a couple of experimental kicks near the door, nodding to herself when she found the range of movement to be rather pleasing.

“Hya!” Another kick. “Ha!” She threw a punch. “Hi-yah!” She struck a woman through the stomach as she entered the bathroom.

Orihime scrambled back with a shriek. She’d forgotten about that—passing through people was such a terrible sensation. She collected herself and quickly left, unwilling to be a spy to the woman who had entered the toilets. 

Outside, the last strains of dusk spread long shadows over the road. All about her, people went about their days, heading home to their loved ones and pets. She could have been one of them, if she’d kept to herself. But how could she have? She would never turn her back on anyone in need, no matter the cost to herself. Even with how jaded she had become in her late twenties, she still couldn’t let it go. She would never let anyone suffer like she had, if she had the power to stop it.

“Right then.”

Tatsuki wasn’t asleep yet. She was watching a horror movie in her room, hugging a pillow lazily to her chest, legs sprawled out around her. She was wearing short-shorts and a loose muscle top; no bra. She’d shaved the back of her head again. 

Orihime sat on the bed next to Tatsuki and ran her fingers through her friend’s hair. She could almost feel it, even though she wasn’t really touching Tatsuki. She watched the movie for a bit, smiling when Tatsuki chuckled at the lame special effects. She’d have loved to lounge there with her for the rest of the evening. 

“I wish you could hear me,” she said. “I don’t want you to worry about where I’m going. I know you’ll never believe Ichigo when he comes up with something. He’s the worst liar. If I had the chance, I’d tell you. I really would.” She leaned against Tatsuki, feeling the phantom of the girl’s warm shoulder. She leaned over and kissed her friends jaw. Despite herself, she felt tears welling up in her eyes. “You would try to follow me. I know you would, and I don’t… I can’t even make myself think about it. I would still tell you if I could. I’d protect you if you came to save me. I’ll protect you no matter where you go.” She laughed a little. Tatsuki was still staring at the screen, totally oblivious. “I love you, you know. You’ve been my family for years. The only family I have. And I don’t want that to go away. So when I come back, you and I, we… we’ll go on vacation. To the beach, or something, just the two of us. I don’t care if I don’t have the money. I’ll make it happen. I promise.” She kissed Tatsuki’s jaw, and then her temple, and her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around her friend and felt herself truly begin to weep when she couldn’t truly hug Tatsuki without passing through her. 

Tatsuki paused and turned off the TV. She looked around the room. Her eyes passed over Orihime, but she squinted. “Hello?” she whispered.

Orihime knew she could barely sense spiritual pressure, but she put out a quick burst of it, filling it with as much love and hope as she could. Tatsuki blinked in surprise before smiling, turning back to the TV and switching it on. “Smells like Orihime,” she whispered, and hugged the pillow more closely to her chest.

“I’ll be back soon,” Orihime told her. With that, she left the way she’d come. She traveled back out the park where she had started, unsurprised to see Ulquiorra waiting there for her on the bench she’d been sitting on all day.

“Ready to go,” she told him.

He stood. “You have been crying,” he decided. “Foolish to shed tears for something you cannot change.”

“It would be more foolish to deny what I was feeling,” she told him. “But you don’t know that yet. You don’t even know what it’s like to have a feeling.”

“I am espada,” he told her. “I have no feelings.”

“You certainly feel irritation. Superiority. Satisfaction. I’m sure you’ve got loads of other feelings, just waiting to catch you unaware. You’d do well to cry a little, Ulquiorra.” She stepped up to him, reaching up to tap the end of one of his tear streaks. “Your body knows what it needs. When you finally realize, too, there’s going to be a lot pent up. I’d say between the two of us, I’m the wiser one.”

He caught her wrist and pulled it away from his face. “You would do well not to press your boundaries,” he told her. 

“Or what?” She challenged him. “You’ll put me in time-out?”

He dropped her hand. “The watch, woman.”

“My name is Orihime Inoue,” she told him. She unclasped the watch and dropped it into her waiting palm. The garganta opened besides them. She started into it without his lead. “You would do to remember  _ that _ , espada.”

He followed after her, quiet and contemplative. She watched the sunlight disappear from sight, like a great mouth closing around her, swallow her alive. She did not fear the dark. She knew good things were born of it; one of which walked by her side.

“You are prepared, then, to be received by Lord Aizen?” Ulquiorra asked her.

“The real question, Ulquiorra, is whether he’s prepared to receive _ me _ .” Glad to have avoided fights and killings and all of that nonsense, Orihime reached the end of the garganta, stepping out into the overwhelming process of Aizen’s throne room.

The Espada were stood about like decorations, lining the path to Aizen’s throne. Aizen himself sat flanked by Gin and Tousen, looking regal and threatening all at once. Orihime kept her chin raised and stared Aizen down. Carefully, she stepped down onto the marble floor and started towards the throne.

Her steps clicked, echoing in the grand chamber. The espada and their fracion leered and watched as she made her march. Orihime did not spare them her eyes, though she took in their subtle changes in the corner of her eyes. She especially appreciated that Tier’s coat came down to rest just over her belly button. 

Aizen stared down at her with a smirk pulling the corner of his mouth up, smug as could be. She stared him down and hoped that he could read that there wasn’t an ounce of fear in her. She had faced him down before. 

What was the worst thing he could do to her, anyway?

“Orihime Inoue.” He leered down at her as she reached the end of the throne.

“Aizen Sousuke,” she replied. She turned to the other ex-captains, nodding to each. “Kaname Tousen. Ichimaru Gin.” 

Kaname nodded at her. Gin smiled.

“Welcome,” Aizen said, “To Los Noches. I trust Ulquiorra was an adequate guide?”

She just looked at him, waiting for him to get to the point.

“Scared speechless?” He nodded. “It’s not uncommon. I’m sure after Ulquiorra’s demonstration you understand the power we have over you. Worry not, though. You’re one of us now.”

“Am I?”

“Don’t think of yourself as a prisoner,” Aizen said. “You’re our guest. I have nothing but good intentions for you, Orihime.”

“It’s Inoue to you, actually,” she said.

His smile fell just slightly. “As the Lord of Hueco Mundo, and Los Noches in particular, I do expect to be treated with certain reverence, Orihime. You may address me as Lord Aizen. You should feel lucky that I chose to address you in such a friendly manner.”

“Eat shit and die,” she said. “Lord Aizen.”

A hush fell over the room.

Aizen’s spiritual pressure fell out all at once. Orihime found herself forced to her knees, pressed for breath. It had been a long time since she’d been exposed to such an explosion of pressure, and she decided to stay down so as not to over-show her hand.

“I will never join you,” she told him. “Not now, not in a million years.”

“Stubborn thing, aren’t you? You’re supposed to be terrified.”

She looked up at him. “You can’t hurt me in a way that matters.”

He raised a brow. “Well. Stubborn as you are, it doesn’t really matter if you think you’re one of us or not. What matters is that your precious friends surely think you’ve joined us. In fact…” he turned his eye to Ulquiorra, who stood dutifully by Orihime’s side. Aizen grinned. “Ulquiorra.”

“Yes, my lord?” He stepped forward, just passed Orihime. 

“While I understand your wish to go without fracion, I think we have a special set of circumstances before us.” He pulled his spiritual pressure back in. “Rise, Inoue.”

She did, face impassive the whole while.

Aizen waved his hand in a burst of Kiddo. Orihime felt her right shoulder begin to burn and reached up to touch her bicep, staring. 

“Ulquiorra, may I introduce you to your new fracion? Do with her as you see fit, just keep her on a tight leash.” 

Beneath Orihime’s hand, black was spreading through her skin. She pulled her hand back, slowly, eyes widening. The pattern of her shun-shun-rika had been tattooed onto her shoulder. 

“Yes, Lord Aizen.” Ulquiorra sharply bowed.

“That’s enough for now,” Aizen waved them away. “Be sure she gets settled in, Ulquiorra. I have a feeling she will be a valuable pawn to us in the future.”

Shocked at the sudden turn of events, Orihime could only stare at her new tattoo. A cold hand on her other arm broke her from her revere. She looked up at Ulquiorra as he tugged at her, gently, signally for her to follow him.

“Really?!” A familiar screech broke the silence. “That’s it?”

Orihime turned around.

Grimmjow parted through the crowd, looking worse for wear. “This  _ human _ shows up for two seconds, curses you out, and then gets to be a fracion? She’s nothing! Not strong enough to even be worth holding prisoner!”

“On the contrary, Grimmjow,” Tousen said. “She is quite powerful, for a human.”

“I call BS. Anyone else?” Grimmjow looked around the room.

The others shifted, uncomfortable. It was clear they were thinking similar thoughts. 

Orihime didn’t need to be told what to do. “Grimmjow,” she said. She smiled a little at the way he bristled. “Would a demonstration make you feel better?”

He narrowed his eyes at her.

“Well,” Gin purred. “You heard the girl. Go and see.”

Not one to back down from a dare, Grimmjow marched up to Orihime, tied sleeve swinging loosely at his side. “Well?” He snarled.

“Remove your coat,” she said. Silently, she said,  _ sorry Luppi.  _ Fate would go as fate would, though. 

“Why?”

“Are you scared?” She challenged.

“No!” He fairly ripped his coat off, tossing it on the floor. He snarled at her, waiting.

Orihime summoned her fairies, which settled both over his shoulder and his back. The tattoo etched itself back into being, and beside it, his arm. Grimmjow’s eyes grew wide, and then he began to grin, eyes searching Luppi out. There were gasps all through-out the room as Grimmjow’s hand re-formed. Orihime dropped her shields, waiting as Grimmjow flexed his fingers and moved his arm about.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he growled. He turned to the soon-to-be-ex-sexta. “No hard feelings, yeah, Princessa?” He chuckled. 

She turned around, not keen to see the carnage that was to take place, and began walking. Ulquiorra fell into step with her. Behind them, she could hear Grimmjow calling Luppi out and sighed. This was just the way of the beasts, in Hueco Mundo. She had to learn to live with it, for the time being.

“Manipulation of space and time,” Ulquiorra said. “You have the power to negate events.”

“Yes,” she said. “That’s why you took me, isn’t it?”

He fell silent.

They were fast approaching her room. Orihime slowed her pace, startled when Ulquiorra breezed past it. “But--”

He looked back at her. “Come.”

“I.” She hurried to catch up with him. “Sorry. I thought…”

He ignored her. “I have never wanted a fracion,” he told her. “You are an inconvenience. I shall do what Lord Aizen orders, but do not expect any sort of fondness from me. If you are to join me on missions, you will fend for yourself, or you will die.”

She blinked at him, surprised. “Missions? But I thought…”

“You thought wrong. I will have your things delivered to our rooms.”

“Our rooms?” She stressed the ‘our.’ 

“It is as Lord Aizen ordered,” he said. Clearly, he was not pleased.

Orihime tagged along behind him. Secretly, she was just the slightest bit worried about how the timeline had changed so much already. Her, a fracion? She would never have imagined it. And she was sure that as good as it had felt to mouth off to Aizen, she would pay for it in some way later on. She looked at the flower tattoo on her bicep and winced. Maybe she was already paying for it.

She didn’t know what she’d expected from Ulquiorra’s rooms. A mirror of her own old jail cell, perhaps, or some dark and mysterious bat cave. What she found instead was admittedly… normal.

Ulquiorra had a small apartment-like set up. A main room, a bathroom, and a bedroom. In the main room he had a glass table with two chairs, a white couch, and a large navy blue rug covering the floor. The bathroom was nondescript and mostly white marble, like the rest of the castle. His room, though, had small touches of an actual personality in it. The large bed took up most of the room, the black sheets and pillows topped by a large white comforter, over which was a dark jade blanket. She could see several of his uniforms hanging in one of the open sliding door closets, and he had shelves sparsely stocked with small mementos. A white vase filled with the crystalline branches from one of the desert trees. A tiny skull from a hollow lizard. A small bowl carved from rock, filled with interesting rocks and crystals. She could just see him, wandering about on patrol, his curiosity sparked when he stumbled upon little artifacts that had been enough to take back home in his pockets. She felt her heart well at the sight of the small decorations. It was proof, somehow, that deep down inside him, there was something human.

“I have no rooms for my fracion,” he told her. His voice made her jump. “As I have never intended to have any.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’ll take your couch.” 

“You are a guest,” he said. “As an arrancar, I do not require sleep. You may take the bedroom for the duration of your stay.”

“I may be staying for a long time,” she told him.

“I doubt it,” he said.

Orihime turned back to the room. “You’re sure you won’t… I don’t know. Won’t you miss having your own space? I don’t want to kick you out, just because Aizen forced you to have me here. Really. I could even go to another room, I’m sure he wouldn’t protest.”

“I am doing as ordered,” Ulquiorra said. 

Orihime wondered, for a moment, if this was a punishment for the both of them. A way to tell Ulquiorra to make sure she behaved in the future. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so great about her ‘eat shit and die’ comment. 

“Alright,” Orihime said softly. “But if you ever want your room back--even just your bed, for a night, I promise I won’t protest. Really, I’m used to bumming it on the couch. It wouldn’t be uncomfortable, or hurt my feelings or anything.”

“Your feelings are the last thing on my mind,” he said.

She made a face at him.  _ Annnnnd there goes my concern. _

“Well then. Fine. Who should I see about having my stuff brought up here?” She moved into the room proper, which was slightly dark in the eternal night. She moved to the window and noticed the bars on it. She leaned out as far as she could, regardless, her shoulders catching at the bars and preventing her from leaning all the way out.

“I will see to it,” he said. “As a fracion, your actions reflect on me. Remember this. I will not hesitate to reprimand you as any other espada would with their own fracion.”

“Except that you’re under orders to see that I don’t die,” she said. “So you won’t terminate me.”

He narrowed his eyes at her.

“What?” Orihime leaned back into the room. “Just laying out the facts, boss.”

“You will address me as Ulquoirra,” he said. “Do not refer to me so familiarly as you would another human.”

“Got it.” She turned her eyes back to the crescent moon. She’d missed it, in a way. “I’ll keep your room clean and won’t touch any of your things. So don’t worry about leaving me alone. I know you probably have things to attend to that you won’t want me tagging along for.” She pushed her hair back out of her face as a cold wind blew into the room. “I forgot about the breeze," she mumbled to herself. 

“Forgot?” He asked. “You have been to Hueco Mundo before?”

_ Whoops _ . “Yes. It was a very long time ago, though.”

He regarded her openly for a moment before turning around. “I will procure something with which you may tie back your hair, if you are concerned. I shall return with your things within the hour. Do not leave this room, and do not let anyone else in. Am I understood?”

“Crystal clear,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“A metaphor, I assume,” he said. He turned sharply on his heal, the flaps of his coat fluttering behind him. Without another word of goodbye, he was gone. 

For a minute, Orihime continued to look around the room, to see if there was anything she’d missed. Satisfied, she slipped into the main room and tried the door, just to see if it was locked. To her surprise, it swung wide open the second she tried the handle. 

_ As a fracion, your actions reflect on me. Remember this. _

She’d put off sneaking out for the moment, then. Better to wait and see what happened. She was sure she was being watched, and she wanted whoever it was that was observing her to think that Ulquiorra had a good hold on her. She’d feel bad if he got in trouble for her rebellion. 

Damn it. As much as she hated to admit it, Aizen really was smart. He’d recognized that she was too headstrong to be caged like a bird. It wasn’t going to be like last time--now he’d use other things against her to keep her in line. 

She sat on the couch to think, door closed.

It wasn’t like she and Ulquiorra were friends. So far, all he’d done was insult her and order her around. It wasn’t like she should feel bad about making him look incompetent. He was the one who’d kidnapped her to begin with. And she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her or anyone else. So what did she care if he got in trouble? 

She looked back towards the bedroom, where those small artifacts were sitting, untouched by dust. She stared at her lap, stomach hurting with the force of her feelings. She remembered Ulquiorra, eyes real and alive and full of soul, full of something, something tender, something good, something human, reaching out to her, dissolving into dust, the way he’d said the word  _ heart _ like it carried physical weight on his tongue. His fingers, brushing hers, bursting into dust…

She shook her head to dispel the memory. That was last time. That version of him didn’t even exist.

… Yet. 

 


	11. And perhaps be welcomed back again

Chapter 11

And Perhaps Be Welcomed Back Again

~(o0o)~

 

True to his word, Ulquiorra returned roughly an hour later. Orihime did not even have the time to be bored before then, though, as she was graced by an unexpected visitor.

Grimmjow’s hair was just a little bit longer, and a little lighter. His fangs were longer and more feline, and when he placed a hand on the edge of the door she could see he had claws. She noticed the front of his coat was different, too--were he to zip it up, it would have on open diamond around his hollow hole in the front, just as Ulquiorra’s did.

“Hey,” he grinned at her with a mouth full of sharp teeth and leaned in across the threshold. Clearly, he thought he was hot shit, showing up at Ulquiorra’s door as he did. 

Orihime just raised a brow. “Ulquiorra doesn’t want me to let anyone in.”  
“You can stand up to Aizen, but not bat-shit? Come on, Princessa. I just wanna talk.”

Somehow, Orihime doubted that. “Is this one of those ‘hey let me blow you away with my sexual prowess so you’ll be my personal number one healer no matter what orders your under’ sort of deals?”

Grimmjow’s smile drooped. 

“Yeah. I sort of figured that.” Orihime started to close the door.

“Hey, hey, hey, whoa!” He stuck his foot out and stopped the door from closing in his face. “What kinda human are you, anyway? You’re supposed to be scared. Your buddy Ichigo sure was the other day.”

“You punched a hole through his girlfriend,” Orihime reminded him.

Grimmjow shrugged. “That was ages ago.”

“Days.”

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. “Well clearly  _ you  _ see that it wasn't that big a deal. You’re not shaking or anything. You know, I’d give a real scare to some lower arrancar for that sort of bold BS. But you’re different.”

“Okay?” She laughed. “Grimmjow I have no idea what tactic you’re trying but really, I’m already your friend. Calm down.”

He reared away from the door. “Friend?” He hissed. “There are no ‘friends’ in Los Noches.”

“Guess I’ll see you later then,” she said. She began to close the door.

The foot again. “... But I can make an exception.”

Orihime held the door open just a crack. “Sorry, that deal expired. Try again tomorrow.”

“What?!”

“Try again tomorrow,” she told him. “If you can be nicer you’ll be my friend again. And yes, don’t worry, this is our little secret. I already know the drill. Yeesh.”

“You little bitch, I’ll--”

She did not hear the rest, as she soundly kicked his foot out of the way and slammed the door closed in his face. She could hear him raging outside, but he must have known very well not to go about breaking down Ulquiorra’s door. And no amount of ‘open this door you bitch!’ was going to get her off the couch again. 

When Ulquiorra came back, he stared first at her and then the rest of the room in suspicion, as though she’d gone and set up booby traps while he was away. She was determined not to be that much of a pain in the ass, even if a healthy dose of frustration was good for Ulquiorra’s character. She smiled at him as a lower arrancar came in with her bags and set them on the floor. They left quickly, without ever once saying a word.

“It has come to my attention that you eat food,” Ulquiorra began.

It took everything in Orihime not to reply with something sassy. She was pretty sure she’d reached her sass limit for the day--she wanted to come out of this with people liking her, after all. So, she nodded.

“I will have three daily meals prepared for you.”

“Thank you,” Orihime said. “I was starting to get hungry.”

“Tomorrow, we will journey to the world of the living for a reconnaissance mission. Afterwards, should you behave, you will be allowed to select food for our chefs to use. The ex-shinigami enjoy eating food as well, so you will be well cared for. For tonight, you still simply have to eat what is served.”

“Okay,” Orihime said. “Thank you.”

He seemed suspicious of how well she was going along with things. “If you fail to consume your meal, you will be tied down and forced to eat. Such a problem would result in your choice of meals being stripped from you.”

“I’ll behave,” she chuckled. “Pinky swear.”

He continued to stare at her. 

“So what will it be?” She stood from the couch and started over to him, and more specifically, he bags. “Cold oatmeal? Gruel? Bone broth with bread crusts?” She grabbed her bags and started back towards her room. “I’m sure Aizen has something plain cooked up for me.” She couldn't count the amount of times she’d been served plain miso the last time around. Everything had been so bland.

“No,” Ulquiorra said.

Orihime dumped her bags in the bedroom. She started back into the living room. “No?” She laughed. “Oh, do we have something better than that? Chicken broth and an entire piece of bread?”

It was then that another arrancar was waved into the room by Ulquiorra. They pushed a tray, upon which was a rich collection of sushi. Orihime’s eyes went wide as her mouth began to water. Salmon, tuna, yellowtail, calamari, eel, shrimp… A whole spread of sashimi, nigiri, and other sushi, complete with heaps of ginger, wasabi, and a dish of soy sauce. Orihime licked her lips, spying two huge prong shrimp, cooked whole, sitting up in rice with their little heads facing towards the ceiling.

… Okay. So what was Aizen playing at this time?

“Sit,” Ulquiorra told her.

Orihime sure as hell didn’t have to be told twice. She hadn’t had sushi in… well, forever. And no, the half-off spicy tuna rolls from the grocery store did not count, as she was fairly certain there wasn’t actually any real tuna in those. She had a momentary thought--hadn’t she read something about tuna fishing being bad, or something? Maybe that was another fish. Some fish, uh, going extinct or being bad to eat or something like that.

Well. It was already there. So. 

_ Forgive me, Tuna God. _

Orihime tucked herself into the table and tried not to visibly lick her chops as the food was placed before her. “Thank you,” she told the server, who expectedly did not reply. She turned her eyes on the spread. “Digging in,” she said, and began at the meal with zeal. 

Ulquiorra sat across from her, watching silently. Orihime ignored the weight of his gaze and inhaled her sushi, glancing up now and again to watch him watch her. She finally swallowed a huge bite and, through a bit of rice, asked, “Want some?”

He raised a brow.

She swallowed the rice and took a minute to make sure her mouth was empty. More clearly, she asked, “Do you want any?”

“I am a hollow,” he told her, as though she needed reminding. “I do not consume human food.”

She was slapped with the memory of the neighbor’s grumpy black cat, Sega, who was also not allowed to eat human food. Orihime had a bad habit of feeding him tiny dishes of cream regardless. For some reason, an image of Ulquiorra on his hands and knees lapping cream out of a tiny bowl struck her. She nearly spit out her next bite laughing.

Ulquiorra scowled. “I fail to see what is so funny.”

“Nothing,” she promised him. “Nothing. Just. Really? I know you  _ can _ eat. I mean, Aizen throws those mandatory tea parties or whatever, doesn’t he?”

“The amount of surveillance you’re privy to is… surprising,” he said.

“Yeah. Anyway. So you can eat, right?”

“Physically, I am capable. It would serve no purpose, though.”

Orihime took a roll between her chopsticks and offered it out across the table. “It tastes good,” she told him. “You’re lucky. Not everyone gets to try gourmet food as their first food. If we were going by human standards, I’d have to feed you pureed yams out of a little jar.”

He continued to stare her down, deadpan.

“Right.” She cleared her throat. “Go on. Try it. I promise you’ll like it.” With her free hand, she pushed forward her tiny dish of soy sauce. “You dip it and then eat it.”

“I do not need it,” he said again, but she could see the slightest hint of curiosity in his eyes. 

“I can’t eat all this food by myself,” she lied. She could really pack away a big meal when the occasion called for it. “You wouldn’t want Aizen’s efforts to go to waste, right?”

Finally, he took the roll between his fingers. She’d given him tuna nigiri. He dipped it in the sauce, as shown, though he did it all with an air of suspicion, like he thought this was some sort of trick designed to make him implode. Meeting her eyes, he opened his mouth, showing a tiny flash of fangs, and then popped the tuna into his mouth. 

She watched him chew, grinning. He swallowed, still warily eying her. She smiled. “Well?”

“The texture is…” 

“It takes some getting used to,” she said. “I guess it’s not what a soul would feel like.” She paused. “What does eating a soul feel like?”

“There is no describing it,” he said. “You would have to consume one yourself.”

She wondered what happened when plus souls ate other plus souls. Nothing good, she was sure. “I think I’ll stick to sushi.” She ate some more, though she caught him eyeing her food. With a grin, she pushed the platter into the center of the table. “You may as well try some more,” she told him. “Like I said, I can’t possibly eat all of this by myself.”

“I do not need it.”

“But do you want it?” At his odd expression, she shook her head. “Forget I asked. This has nothing to do with wants or needs. It’s just… eating. Just sushi. And you’re welcome to have as much as you’d like. If you want, we can even see about getting some more tomorrow when we’re in the living world. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

He gave her a ‘do not push your luck’ sort of look, but took a shrimp roll regardless. She watched with glee as he dutifully dipped it, and the placed it in his mouth. His black nails gleamed against the color of the fish. 

“Between bites of different kinds, you eat the ginger,” she told him. “To cleanse your palate, between tastes.”

“The two rolls taste fine together,” he told her. Still, he took a piece of ginger before his next bite.

She propped one of her arms up on the table and leaned into her palm, watching him. He was very curious. She’d forgotten that about him. That morbid sense of needing to know, wanting to find things out. She wondered what other sorts of things she could entice him to.

She was probably just a little bit older than him, she realized. The souls that created his being were old, yes, but Ulquiorra himself couldn't have been over thirty. Ignoring her body’s age, she was probably his senior mentally.

It was an odd thought. The first time around, he’d seemed so mature. So distant from her--a mountain top she’d never reach. Now, though, he was very simple to her. A man, almost. A creature, in a way. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to see if he was real, to ask him if he felt. How very alone he must have been, wandering the world without anything or anyone. He’d never eaten food. What other countless joys of life had he been missing? 

“It’s good,” she said. “Isn’t it?”

He did nod, then. “Yes.  
She smiled. 

 

\--

 

Orihime slept alone in Ulquiorra’s bedroom, the door closed between herself and the rest of the world. There was a sliver of silver light outlining the doorframe, creeping beneath the crack and across the floor. She felt the espada roaming the palace and the deserts like ants on her skin, their rietsu flaring and growing when they killed and fought, so eager for more, more, more.

Her hypothesis was thus: they were changed because they had been created solely from Aizen’s hogyoku, rather than the combination of Kisuke’s and Aizen’s. There was something darker in Aizen’s creation. Something… angry.

She wondered how Kisuke had collected his souls. She realized she didn’t want to know.

She already knew how Aizen had done it, after all. Kisuke’s methods could not have been all that different. She wondered why it was that she and the rest of the gang had always viewed Kisuke as the good guy, and Aizen as the bad guy. Well, she knew why they considered Aizen the bad guy; he was. But why hadn’t Kisuke been up there with him? Because he’d changed? Because all his crimes were in the past?

Kisuke hadn’t really changed. And his crimes sure as hell were catching up to him, or else Orihime wouldn’t have been on her ridiculous mission to set things right. She loved Yoruichi, even though the princess was technically not the most morally upstanding--was it the same thing? Did she dislike Kisuke simply because of what he’d done to her, and to her friends, or did she hate him for the right reasons? 

_ I wish it was you they captured, _ she thought. He’d never loved anyone weak enough to put himself in danger. Even his so-called children had been made to stand up against any enemy. Then, she had another thought; if Kisuke had been the one in her position, would that mean… Kisuke wearing her old dress? She snorted on her laugher and turned over in bed. The poofy sleeves made him look ridiculous. 

The nature of war was just that the innocent people were the ones who were going to suffer. Really, the espada had done nothing other than exists; nothing other than be born, and they were villains. Orihime’s friends would be pulled into battle, and why? Because they were strong? Because everything in the twisted, terrible world revolved around Ichigo? Which, by the way, was going to stop and then crush him later in life. The whole thing was entirely unfair, but she was certain it was thus in any war, any conflict. No bad person took the time to fight for what was right, and good people didn’t start wars. So what was left between?

But then, she was starting the war this time, wasn’t she? She’d been the one to march herself into Hueco Mundo without a struggle. Who cared that she’d been threatened? She was strong enough to protect herself and the ones she loved at the same time. If she’d wanted to, she could have dug her heels in and refused to let things begin.

So whose fault is it, really? Hers? Aizens? Kisukes? Was it some grand cosmic scheme she hadn’t even glimpsed the full specter of? 

She turned over again. Ulquiorra’s sheets were cool and slippery--very unfeeling in contrast the worn fluffy blankets she usually favored. She pulled them up around her shoulders and tried to get warm, rubbing her pajama-clad legs together and bundling herself into a ball. She’d thrown the blanket on the sofa for Ulquiorra, in hopes that he might sleep, and she was regretting it. Her thoughts were turning a mile a minute, making it hard to fall asleep as it was, but if she were forced to be cold and uncomfortable all night she wouldn’t sleep at all.

Finally, Orihime admitted that she’d had enough. She stood and tiptoed into the silver light spilling across the floor, hand gentle on the knob of the door ashe she eased it open.

There was no one about in the main room. The window was open, and outside, a winged creature was slowly moving through the sky. A dragon-thing of sorts. She watched it, for a moment, before redirecting her attention to the couch, were the blanket sat neatly folded on the end. 

She tip-toed to the couch and picked the blanket up, swinging it around her shoulders like a cape. She shivered, pulling it tightly about herself, and buried her nose into it. It smelled clean and crisp, like the air after a heavy fog.

Orihime turned to head back to bed, pausing only when she picked up the sound of voices near the door. Two masculine voices, both of which she recognized but couldn’t immediately place. Slowly, she moved to the door, which had been left open a crack. She crouched down and put herself against the wall, listening. 

“--orders, I just came to give you the message.” 

That was Starkk, she realized. His lazy drawl was hard to miss.

“Why would Lord Aizen not come himself?”

The second was Ulquiorra, who was easy to identify. 

“I don’t know. He’s wary of her.”

“The girl? She’s human.”

“I don’t know.” Starkk sighed. “Look, just do it. Even if I’m pulling your leg, so what? It’s not like you’re going out of your way. You don’t like her or anything, do you?”

Orihime swallowed. 

“I will do as Aizen commands,” Ulquiorra said in a very clear ‘I don’t like anything, fool’ tone. “I simply believe this could be resolved without fanfare.”

“Take it up with him, then. I don’t care what you do to her. But don’t let the girl know you’ve met with him. We don’t want her to be suspicious.”

“She is human,” Ulquiorra said again, like he was explaining that dogs couldn’t read. “She cannot know what it is that I do with my time.”

“She’s full of surprises, according to the shinigami. So be careful.” Starkk yawned. “Have fun with your little pet project.”

Orihime stood and ran, quietly as she could. She slipped into the room, closed the door, and then flung herself onto the bed. She realized she still had the blanket. There was no time to go back out and put it on the couch, but how long had he been out of the room? Would he suspect she’d been up to overhear his conversation?

Too late. She threw the blanket over the sheets and burrowed beneath them. She flung her arms askew, tilted back her head, opened her mouth and let out a small bit of drool. Eyes closed, she did her best approximation of dead-to-the-world sleep.

For a moment, it was simply quiet. Orihime could feel the light on her face, however, as eventually the door slowly creaked open. There were footsteps, coming closer. Her heart began to pound. Why hadn’t she locked the door? Ulquiorra’s door had a lock. What was he going to do?

He stopped just by the head of the bed.

For a moment, nothing happened. Orihime kept her breathing even and deep, twitching her hand just slightly like she’d been told she did in her sleep. She waited, prepared to summon her fairies.

The footsteps started away. The light closed away from her face as the door shut. There was silence, and nothing else. Orihime threw out her perception for any traces of Ulquiorra, but he was already leaving the other room, off to do who knows what. 

Slowly, she sat up, wiping the drool from her cheek with the back of her hand. Her heart rate evened out in a few moments. She curled up into a ball and set her chin on her knees. Why was everything so complicated anymore? Had it been this complicated the first time, but she was just too busy being scared and imprisoned to realize? Man, being an adult sucked!

There was just no way she was going to be able to go back to sleep. With Ulquiorra gone, she cautiously poked her head out of the bedroom, and then into the hall. No one was about, and the lights were low. No matter; she could feel the way she needed to go.

Carefully, she closed the door to Ulquiorra’s rooms behind her, and took out into the hall. Her fairies perked up at the move. Shunui popped up, blond head tilted in concern. 

“Orihime,” he said, “This doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

“Too late for that,” she muttered. Seeing his frown deepen, she sighed and then put on a smile. “And besides, I don’t need to worry with you guys by my side.”

That did placate them a little bit. Shun disappeared back into one of the pins attached to the lapel of her pajamas. The fact that they were worried probably meant that she wasn’t so sure about this idea herself, but she’d already told herself it was happening. 

Barefooted and clothed in her silly yellow duck pajamas, she took deeper into the castle. Down the stairs, around corners, up a set of stairs, and to a door that looked like it had seen better days. The hinges were double-reinforced, and the amount of scratches around the door handles were concerning, like some idiot couldn’t be fucked to care about what he was doing when trying to get into his own room. The amount of dents and other such wounds to the door said that there were often fights in this particular hallway.

Orihime was not surprised.

She pondered, for a moment, whether or not to knock. She tried the handle and found it wasn’t locked, but it still seemed a little presumptuous to just… walk in. But she didn’t want to wake up anyone else.

Oh well.

_ Knock, knock, knock. _

There was no sound for several minutes. He was in there, though--she could feel it. 

_ Knock! Knock! Knock!  _

Finally, she heard cursing and rustling from within. A moment later, the door was thrown open with obvious content. Grimmjow leaned out, hair a wild staticy mess about his head, face twisted in a snarl. “WHAT!?”

“Hey, I’m lonely,” Orihime said. “Wanna have a sleepover?”

Grimmjow wasn’t the type to think before he spoke. “What?”

“I said--”

“I heard you. What do you mean, a sleepover? Do you know what fucking time it is? I was sleeping!”

“I know.” She tilted her head. “Don’t you want to be friends?”

“After that stunt you pulled earlier, you bitch? No way!”

“But what if you lose another arm? What then?”

“Aizen will order you to heal it, idiot.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“D--Don’t want to!? Are you stupid?”

“Yeah,” she said. 

“Aizen will make you!”

“Aizen doesn’t scare me,” she lied. “Do you want to be friends or not?”

“Fine!” He threw his arms up, turning to go back inside. “Get in here before I decide to toss your stupid ass out.”

She stepped in, closing the door behind her.

Where Ulquiorra’s room was calm and collected, Grimmjow’s was… not. 

He had workout equipment and various ‘treasures’ such as large rocks, skeletons, and trash. The high-walls were fucked beyond repair, and several different large strips of fabric had been pinned randomly about the room, on booth the ceiling and the walls. His bed was a shredded mattress topped in shredded pillows and shredded blankets. All in all, it looked… terrible.

“Do you like. Bring people back here to have sex?” She asked him.

“Yeah. And?”

“Ah. Do they come back for seconds?”

He turned to glare at her.

“Right. Forget I asked.” She smiled wide at him. 

He had a bathroom and, for some reason, a bar tucked into the corner. He started towards the bar, where he poured himself a glass of tequila. Not a shot. A glass.

“Anyway,” he said. He took a sip. “What the fuck do you want?”

She felt like she was on some bizarre reality TV show.  _ Local Man Lives Like THIS!? More at 7! _ She didn’t even know where to sit. She picked her way across the room to the sticky bar, which she hopped up onto and sat with. Grimmjow glared at her, like having her butt on his bar was just too barbaric. She just gave him a look.

“What?” He demanded.

“Get me something to drink,” she said. 

He offered out his cup.

“Not from your glass! You drank out of that!” 

“So?” He held his arm out to the other glasses on the bar. “I drank out of all of them!”

“Fine.” She grabbed his cup and slammed it back. She’d forgotten how much she hated tequila. It burned all the way down, causing her to wince. She handed back the glass, smacking the roof of her mouth with her tongue. “Ew.”

He laughed. “Idiot.”

“So,” she began, nose still wrinkled in tistate. “About our sleepover.”

“Yeah. If you want to have sex you’ll have to wait until the bed dries.”

“Wh--why is the bed wet?”

He smiled.

She decided it was best she didn’t know.

“I don’t want to have sex with you,” she said. His brows went up as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She rolled her eyes. “We’re  _ friends _ Grimmjow. This is a high school slumber party. Go find some nail polish, I’ll paint your claws.”

He regarded her with narrowed eyes.

She stared right back.

“One second,” he said, and was off into the mounds of garbage his room was composed of.

“I can’t believe you live like this!” She yelled after him. She picked up her glass and took another drink, sticking her tongue out. “Ew. But really. How do you live like this?”

“I can’t be fucked to clean this shit up.”

“Then don’t make a mess?”

“No?”

She shook her head, watching him. Ichigo was afraid of this guy. Rukia was afraid of this guy. All of her friends, afraid. Of this guy, who was in the middle of ripping up a tarp because it had gotten stuck to his claws.

“And make us a new bed!” She yelled at him.

“No!” He started tearing fabric down from the walls and throwing it into a pile despite his rebuttal. Orihime topped off their glass and headed to the nest, settling into the mess of stuff with as much dignity as she could muster. Surprisingly enough, it was very comfortable--enough to make Ulquiorra’s bed look dumb in comparison. Him and his hard matress and stiff sheets. Who needed him?

Speaking of.

“So.” Orihime crossed her legs and held her hand out to accept the bottle of blue polish Grimmjow had somehow procured. “About our friendship.”

“I get fucked up, you heal me. This counts hair, and hang-overs. I keep cool-ass scars like this one.” He pointed at his chest. “And in return I’ll be your friend or whatever.”

“And in return,” she painted his first nail. “You make sure Ulquiorra doesn’t kill me.”

Grimmjow paused, turning to look at her. “Wait. What?”

She silently painted his next nail.

“You think he’s going to try to kill you?” He didn’t seem concerned so much as interested. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But it’s a possibility.” 

“You’re a hostage, aren’t you? Or something? Wait, did you defect to our side for real? I can’t tell.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Your friends suck, so you came to us. Right?”

“No. My friends are… great.” She was thinking about Ichigo ramming his head into the shower curtain rod every time she was forced to put it back up when it fell because he told her she could handle it. Every. Time. “Really great.” She had to remember that Uryuu wasn’t all that bad, and above him, Chad, the angel, did in fact exist. 

“Sure they are. I mean, Kurosaki is a peice of ass.” He paused. “Like I mean. Damn.”

“In a good way…?”

“In the way that I wanna plow him into the fucking floor. Or wall. Any surface, really, I’m not picky.” He shrugged. His first hand was finished, so he took it back to inspect it. He seemed pleased. “Does being your friend include you swinging that for me?”

“Again. You punched a hole through his girlfriend.”

“And? Kinda sexy if you think about it.”

“I mean, not really.” She shook her head. “I’m not a hostage, and I’m not a traitor. I’m just… here. And I need you to watch my back. Because Ulquiorra is… well. He follows orders. He doesn’t really know anything else.”

“You can say that again. Did you know the espada aren’t supposed to fuck each other? He follows that rule. I mean, what an idiot, am I right?”

“What espada would he be fucking?” She asked, baffled. “You?”

“I can do way better than him.” 

“Sure, Grimmjow.”

“Starkk, for example. But that asshole is a pillow princess.”

“Great, Grimmjow.”

“Anyway. It’s not like I’m supposed to be around you.”

“I thought you liked breaking the rules.”

“I also like it when Aizen and the rest aren’t up my fucking asshole.”

“Good point.” She frowned. “Just. I don’t know. How about you act like you want to kill me? No one else can kill me but you. Because… I sassed you or something. Turned down your offers of sex. How about that? And that way no one will think twice about you keeping tabs on me.”

“Do I actually get to kill you when this is over with?”

“No.”

“Fine. Bitch.”

“You’re dumber than I remember,” she told him. “There. All done. Like it?”

He regarded his other hand. “Acceptable,” he decided. “Fine. I’ll make sure batboy doesn’t kill you. And you make sure I keep all my limbs. Sound good?”

“Yes,” she said. “And in the meantime…” she raised their glass. “We drink and have sleepovers.”


	12. But Since It Fell Unto My Lot

 

Orihime stumbled back into her rooms at some point. She had no idea what time it was, but she was pretty sure it was early. Her stomach hurt and she felt flu-ish, so she knew she and Grimmjow had definitely had too much to drink. 

Quietly, she pushed the door open. She tiptoed inside, gently shutting the door behind her. She let out a sigh.

“Where were you?”

Barely containing a scream, Orihime leapt around, staring at Ulquiorra.

“Ulquiorra!” She put a hand on her chest. “You scared me.”

“You were not given permission to leave this room. Where were you?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said. It wasn’t technically a lie. “So I went for a stroll.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. 

She waited, holding her expression, to see if he would call her out on her BS.

He didn’t. “I thought humans needed sleep.”

“Well.” Involuntarily, a yawn forced its way from her mouth. “That’s true. Don’t worry, I’ll go to bed now.”

“You will not.” He turned around and started towards the table, where a breakfast of a fried egg on natto and rice with a side of miso soup was waiting for her. It looked rather good, actually, but the thought of eating made Orihime’s stomach turn.

What was his line again? ‘You’ll eat it all or I’ll strap you down and force you to?’

“Fine,” she said. She sat down and turned to the soup, the least offensive of the presented breakfast foods. “I’ll eat, I’ll sleep–”

“You will eat quickly, and then you will collect yourself. We are due for a mission.”

She looked up at him in surprise. “A mission?”

He nodded sharply, once.

Orihime swallowed a gulp of soup. “What kind of mission?”

“Scouting,” he said. “In the human world.”  
“Isn’t that sort of… I don’t know.” She shrugged. “A great chance for me to escape?”

“Escape?” He scoffed. “You came here of your own free will. Did you not?”

She looked back down at her food. “Huh. I guess I did.”

“Be quick,” he said. “And change. Your stench is unpalatable.”

She probably smelled like Grimmjow’s room and booze. Not a great combo. “You really know how to talk to a gal, don’t you Ulquiorra?” She shook her head, but forced herself to finish her breakfast and get ready for the mission.

While she was in the bathroom, Ulquiorra spoke through the door. “There is a hair fastening on the counter,” he said. “Use it. Your hair is bothersome.”

She looked down at the counter and found a small bone crown and pins. With a sigh, she gathered her hair into a bun and secured the bone crown around it. She regarded herself in the mirror. She really did look like one of them. For some reason, that raised goosebumps on her upper arms.

Feeling a little more put together after washing up and changing, Orihime strode out of the bathroom with her chin raised. She found Ulquiorra waiting for her at the door, expectant and impatient. She crossed the room to him in long strides, keeping her face cooly unimpressed. 

They did not leave through the door. Rather, Ulquiorra moved his painted nails through the air, and a garganta appeared before them. She was still taken off guard by just how inexorable the darkness within a garganta was. She lifted her hand and put it into the cool of the garganta; her fingers were hard to make out in the dim.

“Come,” Ulquiorra said, and strode into the abyss. 

“Well,” she muttered behind him, “I guess I can’t say no, can I?”

She went in after him. Loath as she was to do so, she stuck close, afraid of getting lost if she staggered behind. She didn’t doubt he’d leave her if she dawdled, and who was to say when he would return? As fond as she had been of him in the end, there was no denying he had been cold in the beginning. 

“Where are we going?” 

He declined to respond.

Orihime crossed her arms. She felt the sheer of her cape fluttering behind her and shivered; it felt as though there were someone breathing down her back. She hurried closer to Ulquiorra. 

The garganta ended very suddenly. Blue sky appeared first, and then green. Orihime smelled the fresh air and felt her heart ache. Even though she’d been gone for barely twenty four hours, she had still missed the life that the living world carried. 

They stepped out onto the top of a building. At first, Orihime thought she was simply making false connections, but after a moment she realized she couldn’t be anything but right; they were in Karakura. 

“What…?” She turned and regarded Ulquiorra with furrowed brows. “What are we doing here?”

“As I said,” he approached the edge of the roof, hands linked neatly behind his back. “Surveillance.” 

It is times like these Orihime is reminded of why it was she came back alone. Many nights she’d stayed up wondering what would have happened if she could have brought the others to the past--Ichigo, especially. Ichigo had always been the leader of their group, and he’d grown wise and battle-hardened after everything… why not him? But there were moments he would not have been able to handle. Moments that would have reached between his ribs and pulled out his soul. Ichigo knew grief, too much grief, and Orihime was the one between the two of them who knew how to handle it.

Her friends were training in the street below. Rukia was directing from the sidelines, still healing after Grimmjow’s attack. Orihime had pushed them all in her subtle ways, to get better. They might not have her forever, like the time before, and there would be battles and wounds to come that would mean death without her. They had to be better than before. Stronger. Tougher. Smarter. 

They were laughing and Rukia was using a water gun to shoot them with streams of cold water. They deserved a break. They probably knew she was missing. This was their way of de-stressing. But they weren’t adults yet. They didn’t know what it meant to be in a war. And as things stood, any one of them could die. 

“Why did you bring me here?” Orihime felt like the words took all the breath from her lungs. She didn’t want to be reminded of the life she wasn’t a part of. She didn’t want to know that she was on the outside, just like always. It hurt. She was used to it, but it hurt.

“They are your friends, are they not?” 

She looked back at him. The garganta had closed, and he stood idly, hands in his pockets. Relaxed.

“Together, the six of you could defeat me,” he added.

“You keep reminding me,” she said, “That I came to you of my own free will.”

“Then you are completely loyal to Lord Aizen?”

“Of course not,” she said. “I’d love to watch him choke on his own tongue.”

“So then, you would betray me, if given the chance.”

She just stared at him, not sure where he was going with his little speech. 

He raised his hand and pointed his index finger down into the street below. “Our spiritual pressure is completely suppressed,” he told her. “They would not even know before it hit them. I have noticed you and I share an ability to mask our attacks and abilities.” A tiny black orb formed a hair's width away from his nail. 

“Stop,” she whispered.

“Who do you belong to?”

“Lord Aizen,” she said, quickly. “Body, mind, soul, everything! Just stop!”

“Would you save them?” He asked. “Would you step in the way?”

“This isn’t part of Aizen’s plan!” 

“How would you know?” He kept eye contact with her.

Her heart pounded. Still, twitchy, and ready, she watched him. She waited.

“Warn them,” he told her. “And it will not harm them.” He stepped back a pace. 

“What?” She asked. 

He let the cero go.

Orihime unleashed her spiritual pressure all at once. She turned, reaching out with her arm. She made to jump from the roof, summoning her shields both beneath her and around her friends. They caught her, but did not deploy further down. Orihime felt a burning sensation in her arm, and as she made to try and jump down again, the pain grew stronger and more acute. It spread down her arm and into her fingers, so intensely painful that she recoiled, as though she’d been touching an invisible barrier. 

The group below looked up just in time to dodge Ulquiorra’s singular cero. Orihime looked back at him, but he’d gone--probably out of view to open up another garganta. She looked back down below. Her friends were all staring up at her in shock.

“Wait–” she tried to say.

The pain pulled her back, step by step, sweating in agony. She clenched her teeth and dug her nails into her shoulder as the burning sensation swept up into her jaw and face, and down into her legs. She felt as though her bones were being pulled on by hands of fire. Back, back, back, up onto the roof. Away from her shouting friends.

“Inoue!” Ichigo yelled. She felt him release his shinigami form.

It was too late for him to attempt to help her, even with flash-step. She tumbled out of his view and into Ulquiorra’s grasp. The espada pulled her back into the garganta, and just like that it was closed, leaving them encased entirely in darkness.

Instantly, the burning sensation began to fade. Orihime jerked out of Ulquiorra’s grasp, fumbling with her shoulder armor. “Shun shun rika,” she summoned the light of her fairies so that she could see. 

The tattoo that Aizen had placed on her shoulder--the one of her flower pins--was fading from red back to black. The pain disappeared as though it had never been there to begin with. Moments ago, she felt as though someone had been sawing her arm off with a molten blade. 

“What did you do?” She hissed.

He eyed her and then turned away, walking with an even stride.

“Ulquiorra!” She hated that she could feel tears rolling down her cheeks. “What was that?”

“The kido Lord Aizen sewed onto you,” he said. “We all have it.”

“The tattoos--they’re to keep you from acting out?” Had it been so the last time? Surely not. He’d used his spiritual pressure to cow them all into obedience. Grimmjow would just rip his skin off to get away with whatever he wanted. 

“They are our contracts with Aizen,” he said, simply. “And a marker of our placement.”

She followed after him. “Why did you fire that cero at them?”

“They did not see me fire it at them,” he said. “Only you.”

“What?”

“You released your spiritual pressure as it was fired.”

“Wh--to warn them, of course.” She squinted at him. “Wait. Do you--are you trying to set me up?” She thought about what had happened and then shook her head. “They’re never going to believe–”

“That you, the most distant and oddly powerful one of the group, who knows too much and keeps secrets, the one who left a note telling them she’d gone over to the enemy’s side, would truly defect?”

She didn’t buy it. “They know better.”

“Do they?” 

She pressed her lips together. “How would making them think I’m on your side possibly benefit you?”

“You are on our side.”

“Sure,” she said. “Again. How does it benefit you to have them know that?”

He stopped walking entirely and turned to face her, so quickly that she almost ran into him. “Orihime Inoue,” he said. “Seventeen years old. Friendly, spacey. An airhead. Lives alone. Spends most of her time alone. Longest term friendship--Tatsuki Arasawa, of four years, recently less closely intermingled.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“You have no family. Your friends neglect you. You have been rejected and ignored your entire life. You are only human, despite your powers. Powers that, while godlike, only separate you further from your peers. It is only human nature to want to be part of something. To be needed. To be loyal, and to be rewarded with loyalty in turn.”

“I’m not alone,” she said. “Not anymore.”

“That is correct,” he said. “You are part of the Espada, now.”

“No, I mean–”

“How long will you wait for them to come?” He asked. “How many more times do you think I will have to ‘set you up,’ so to speak? Years? Months? Weeks?”

“They wouldn’t think that of me.”

“And why wouldn’t they?” He stepped closer to her. “How long, woman?”

“Stop it,” she muttered. 

“How long until you realize this is your place, now?”

“I’d never join Aizen.”

“You already have,” he said. “You wear your loyalty on your very skin.”

“I had to–”

“You did not have to do anything. Do you think you will remain so against us when they do not rescue you in a month? What about two months? Three?”

“They’ll come for me,” she said. “And when they do, Aizen will die.”

“That is just the thing, Orihime Inoue. They will not come for you. Aizen will not die. And you will either perish, emotionally dependent as you are human, or you will fulfill your need for comradery with the Espada.”

She blinked. Tears began to fall from her lashes again, but this time it was not from pain. She was angry. “Emotions,” she said, and her voice trembled with anger. “What would you know about emotions, Ulquiorra?”

“Enough,” he said, “To know they will be your downfall.”

She did not hit him. It would have been childish. She simply swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Open the garganta,” she commanded. “And get the hell out of my way.”

He did open the garganta, but he didn’t move out of her path. She shouldered passed him and into their room, where she paused briefly at the door to angrily wipe her face with the heels of her palms.

“Do not leave this room,” Ulquiorra commanded behind her.

She didn’t reply. She stepped boldly out in to the hall and stomped away, down, down, down the palace halls, until she found that one little room she was so familiar with. She locked herself inside and curled up on the white couch where she could cry it out in peace, cursing Ulquiorra the whole while. 

 

~(o0o)~

 

Orihime woke up in Ulquiorra’s bed. She didn’t know when she’d fallen asleep in her old room, or when someone had come to collect her, but she’d been there moping all the day before.

 It was hard to imagine Ulquiorra carrying her back to her bed, but the thought of anyone else doing it was too creepy. Except Grimmjow. Grimmjow would have sooner drop-kicked her up the stairs, though. 

Her face felt dry from being tear-streaked. She poked her head out into the main room, but Ulquiorra wasn’t about. There was a platter on the table, which she went to invesitgate. Grapes, cheese, crackers, and whine. An odd spread for breakfast, of for anyone in Los Noches, but she understood now that they were truly trying to woo her to their side. 

Like hell. 

… But she’d take the fancy food, anyway.

Still gross from the night at Grimmjow’s, and from the night of crying added on top, she was well overdue for a shower. Orihime took the platter of food into the bathroom, thinking at first she’d sip her wine in the shower, but then eyed the tub.

Moments later, the tub was filled to the brim with soapy water. Orihime dragged a chair into the bathroom and set it besides the tub to serve as her table, and with everything merrily in order, had taken to reclining in nearly-too-hot-water as she fed herself a decadent breakfast. She lounged in the soapy water, poking her toes out on the other end to see how the paint on her nails was holding up. It still looked stellar, though she wasn’t sure how she felt about electric blue…

At some point she noticed that she’d left the door cracked open. She half-expected Ulquiorra to barge in on her at any moment, but the thought didn’t really bother her. He was cold, remote. He’d regard her naked the same way he would if she covered every inch of her skin. In fact, he’d probably not even notice she wasn’t wearing any clothes.

She could just imagine him giving her a mission report while she did a strip tease in front of him. He wouldn’t stutter over a single word. Hell, he probably wouldn't even blink. 

_ Not that I’d give him a strip-tease _ , she thought to herself,  _ After he was such an asshole yesterday. _

Now there was a thought she’d been sure she wouldn’t have again. Huh.

Was this version of him even capable of the end-self that her previous Ulquiorra had achieved? He seemed meaner. In fact, they all kind of did. Aizen’s Hogyoku had always been so… Angry. And now, without Urahara’s to balance it out… Maybe they were all worse. Or maybe they’d always been this bad, and she’d been too young to notice it. 

Either way, she had to say she wasn’t really all that excited about what was going on.

Eventually the water did grow cold, and she finished her platter. Flushed from the steam and the wine, she wrapped herself in a towel and strode out of the bathroom. She didn’t care if Ulquiorra saw her.

“Hey, what the fuck?”

She did, however, care if Grimmjow saw her.

She glared at the sexta espada, pulling her towel a little tighter around herself. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Your room? Bitch, this is Ulquiorra’s room.”

“My room now,” she said. “Don’t you knock?”

“No?”

She sighed. “Do you need something, or did you just come to catch me out of my clothes?” When he just dragged his eyes up her legs and grinned, she rolled her eyes and continued into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

A moment later, his voice came at the door. “You said for me to make sure Bat-boy didn’t chop your head off!” He yelled. “I was coming to make sure you were still in one piece!”

“Again,” she said. “Knocking!”

“If he was in the process of killing you he wouldn’t have answered a knock.”

“You’d have heard that.”

“You think?” He challenged. “He’s a quiet son of a bitch.”

She considered his statement and then nodded to herself. Yeah, that was true. 

“I heard he took you out on a field trip. Did you see my fuck-boy?”

“Where did you even learn that term?”

“What term?”

“Fuckboy.”

“I made it up. He’s a boy I’m gonna fuck.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I saw him. Ulquiorra tried to make him think I tried to kill him.”

“Hands off, he’s mine.”

“Are you gonna kill him or have sex with him?” She called. She was trying to figure out the shoulder armor clasps with the cape. It was a struggle. “I’m getting mixed signals.”

“I can have sex with him and kill him, you know. I don’t have to choose one or the other.”

“I mean. You have to at least choose an order, right?”

“Not really,” he said. “I’ll fuck his spirit if I kill him. Then I’ll kill his spirit. Or fuck him again. Who knows?”

She finished dressing and threw the door back open. “Okay,” she said. “What do you really want?”

He was holding his hands behind his back. “Bitch. Can’t I just check up on your stupid ass to make sure that bitch didn’t kill you? I’m being a friend or whatever the fuck.”

“No you’re not. Your being shady.”

“I’m always shady.” His eyes skipped to the side.

“Shadier,” she muttered. She crossed her arms. “I need to put my hair up. You’re in my way.”

He stared at her.

Orihime sighed. “Are you going to show me what you’re hiding behind your back or do I have to stand here for another twenty minutes argueing with you?”

He revealed a bottle of liquor from behind himself, almost reluctantly. “Wanna day drink?”

“All that, just for this? I thought you were going to proposition me.”

“I mean. If you wanna suck my–”

“I don’t have time to drink,” she said. She slipped past him and walked back towards the bathroom, aware of him tailing her. 

“What? What the hell could you possibly have to do? Bitch, you’re a hostage.”

“They’re trying to make me more than that,” she said. “I need to scope some stuff out.”

“Like what?”

“Stuff,” she said.

“Princessa is shifty,” he purred. “What sort of bad things are you up to?”

“Nothing sexy, that’s for sure.” 

“Well if you want–”

“Go be horny somewhere else. You have plenty of lower arrancar just dying for you to hook up with them and kill them and whatever the hell it is you do.” She found the bone crown and began to arrange her hair into a bun again. 

“I see what this is,” he said. “You’re going to follow Ulquiorra to his meeting.”

Orihime paused. She regarded her reflection, looking to be sure that she wasn’t giving anything away with her expression. “What meeting?”

Grimmjow appeared behind her in the mirror. His grin stretched unnaturally far. “Oh,” he drawled. “You didn’t know.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Out with it.”

“What do I get in return?”

She sighed and turned away from the mirror to face him. “I’ll day drink with you tomorrow. On the roof. I’ll watch you piss off the side.”

His eyes lit up. “Fuckin’ deal.”

She was regretting it already.

“So Ulquiorra’s supposed to go see Ichimaru or something outside of Los Noches. Soon.”

“How do you know?”

“I was following Gin.”

Her brows furrowed. “What? Why?”

“Trying to spit on his coat without him knowing. Freaky fuck.”

“You know I can’t bring you back from the dead, right?”  _ I think. _

He shrugged. “Already dead.”

“Okay. Well you’re gonna get a lot deader if you mess with Gin.”

“If he can catch me.”

“Trust me, he can.” She started out of the room. Grimmjow followed her. “I’m going to see what he’s up to.”

“Ichimaru?”

“Ulquiorra.”

He sighed. “Why do you even care? I told you, I won’t let him kill you.”

“That’s not what I’m concerned about. I just… want to know what he’s up to.”

“Why?”

“I just do.” She knew the way out of Los Noches, even though she’d never actually tried to escape in the old days. She’d been sure to know where it was she was being held captive. No one had told her she couldn’t leave the castle this time around, so…

“Why? You hoping he’ll be your friend, too? Forget about it. Doesn’t matter how much healing you offer him. Not even healing, any offer. Sex, drinking, healing, none of it. He won’t care, and he won’t be your friend. He doesn’t have emotions to appeal to, princessa.”

“That’s your opinion.” She took another sharp turn.

“Oh great,” he groaned. He walked close to her, practically breathing down her neck. “He’s not faking, human. He doesn’t feel anything. Rumor has it that Aizen found his ass impaled on a goddamn tree. Just lyin’ there. And he was  _ Vasto Lordes _ ! Not like the tree was doing anything to him. He coulda got up and walked away any time. But he didn’t. He’s fucked, okay?”

She ignored him.

“Is that your thing?” He fell into step directly beside her, leaning in to jear at her. “I thought it was your carrot-top friend that had the god complex. You trying to save the unsavable?”

She stopped and whirled on him. “He’s no unsavable.” She recalled her to-do-list, crumbled up in the bottom of her sock drawer.  _ Save Ulquiorra.  _ “And he’s not emotionless.”

“You’re right,” Grimmjow said. “He does feel an emotion! Mope. He can mope.”

She glared at him. 

“Look.” Grimmjow rubbed the back of his neck, squinting at her. “I don’t get why you care so much. I mean, he’s done nothing but be an ass since you got her. Since  _ before _ you got her. What do you care what he’s up to?”

“It might concern my plans.”

“Your plans to save him, or your plans to betray Aizen?”

She pressed her lips into a thin line.

“Both, huh?”

She stayed silent.

“I’m not gonna rat on you. Chill out.” He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “I told you I’d keep you alive. And listen, getting involved with Batsy is the opposite of helping me. He’s a hundred percent loyal to Aizen. You’d have better luck getting the sun to rise.”

“No one is a hundred percent anything,” she said.

“Sure they are. I’m a hundred percent asshole.”

“Ninety nine,” she argued.

“No, Princessa. A hundred. You know so much about us hollows, but there’s one thing you seem to be forgetting. We look human. Or shinigami. Whatever. We look like you. But we ain’t you. Not in the least.”

“You’re wrong,” she told him. 

He lurched forward. She went stiff as he loomed over her, bringing her face down into the crook of her neck. She felt the hair on the back of her neck rise as he pressed his nose into her jaw and took a deep breath in.

“I can smell your soul, you know.” His breath against her skin made her shiver and break out into goosebumps. “High power. Tasty. It wasn’t so long ago that if I’d been out on the streets and spotted you, I wouldn’t have hesitated to kill you and eat your heart.”

She put her hand against his chest and shoved him away, rubbing the goosebumps out of her arms. “That was then,” she said. “And you wouldn’t kill me now, because we’re friends. I don’t care if you eat souls, or whatever. It’s not your fault. You’re a hollow. I don’t hate cats for eating birds, you know.”

“Tweet-tweet,” he mocked her.

She shook her head. “Look, what do you care? So what if I’m on a mission doomed to failure? It’s not any of your business.”

“Forgive me if I don’t see it that way, but I want my one-stop-doc in working order.”

“Then stay out of my way,” she muttered. She turned sharply on her heel and began a fast pace away from him. She could feel that he was still following her, hands jabbed angrily into the pockets of his jacket. “You’re going to give me away.”

“They’ll expect me to be stalking around out there,” he said. “If anything, I’m a good cover. I told you, I’m not letting your stupid ass die. I’ve got plans, princessa, and I need you to patch me up for them.”

“Fine,” she said. She finally came to the exit, pulling her spiritual pressure into herself. “But if you give me away, you won’t have to worry about Gin or Ulquiorra killing you. I’ll do it myself.”

“I’d love to see you try, woman.”

She ignored him and pushed out into the desert, where it was cold and still. It wasn’t hard to find Ulquiorra. She knew what to look for, and he wasn’t trying to hide. 

“This is stupid,” Grimmjow whispered as they snuck out through the sands. 

“Shh.”

He grumpily flash-stepped through the dunes behind her, sulking whenever they stopped to hide and assess Ulquiorra’s position. When they finally found Gin and Ulquiorra, Orihime felt like turning and hitting Grimmjow. Thanks to his interference, they seemed to be a good way through their conversation. But then, she wouldn’t have known about it at all if not for him. 

“Idiot,” she whispered.

“I know, but why?”

She ignored him, straining to hear the words of the espada and shinigami standing out in the sands.

“--that she’s not onta’ ya. Ya’ see the crack in ‘er clevage an yer too close.”

“I understand.”

“Not that it’s easy to miss the cleavage,” he said. “Miles away. Miles, and miles–”

“I understand,” Ulquiorra cut in. “When?”

Gin didn’t answer for a moment. Orihime chanced a peek and saw him finish a careless shrug. “Whenever it hits yer fancy. She thinks she knows me, so don’t let ‘er catch on. Her or Aizen.”

“I am loyal to–”

“He won’t ask, so just don’t tell,” she could hear Gin’s threatening grin in his voice. “You’re one loyal little hollow, aincha?” When Ulquiorra didn’t answer, he said, “I can have ya’ disposed of the second you say a damn thing. So keep in line. It won’t hurt Aizen none, ya’ know.”

“... I understand,” Ulquiorra said. “I will report tomorrow evening.”

“Tha’s more like it,” Gin chimed. “Good boy. Now go ‘long. Continue with yer’ damned trainin’. I’m sure you don’t need more of it.”

For a moment, they remained in the sands. Orihime let the conversation play through her head. The hell did Gin want Ulquiorra to spy on her for? It sounded like spying. But why? Ulquiorra was around her all the time. What did it matter if she knew he was watching her?”  
“Well that was stupid,” Grimmjow said.

“At least I know he’s plotting something.”

“You already knew that! This was fucking useless.”

“No. I know Gin is involved. That means something.”

“Something?” He groaned. “Ichimaru is involved with everything, idiot!”

“You’re the idiot,” she snapped. “Thinking this doesn’t mean anything.”

“Hey! Fuck you for–” His eyes widened suddenly. “Oh shi–”

He was gone in a flurry of sand, just as Ulquiorra appeared right before where he’d been crouching. His eyes were narrowed in thinly contained fury. “Woman,” he snipped. “What is it that you are doing here?”

“Following you,” she said. “I’m supposed to stay close to you, remember?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. 

She tried to shake her nerves off by standing and dusting the sand from her clothes. “But hey, if you want to be alone–”

“You will remain.”

She swallowed. 

“I have come here to train,” he said. 

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure if he knew that she’d been spying.

“Why was Grimmjow with you?” He demanded.

“He followed me,” she said. “He still wants me to sleep with him.”

“Why would he want you to sleep– Ah. You mean have intercourse with.”

God, he was weird. “Yep.” She popped the ‘p’ at the end and tried not to fidget under his hardened stare. He was so intimidating sometimes. He looked like he knew everything and nothing and, really, that was probably true. Had he really impaled himself on a tree and just… left himself like that to die? She couldn’t imagine him giving up like that. But then, what if it was a really nice tree? Like, he’d just kinda… laid down in what was as close to a bed as Hueco Mundo would offer and just… hit the snooze button too many times? That brought to mind her cellphone with its alarm. She needed to start using that instead of her clock. If hollows had cell phones, what would they look like? Would Ulquiorra have little skull-charms attached to the ends? Or maybe little skull stickers? Maybe he’d just have bats. Did he even like bats? Like, that was his fursona or whatever. But he didn’t really get to choose it, right? Because Ichigo didn’t get to choose his weird lizard one or any of the ones that came after, so it would stand to reason that–

“--you.”

Shit. He’d totally been giving her a speech. And she’d missed all of it; too spaced out to pay attention. 

“Right,” she said, hoping to fake it out.

He narrowed his eyes. “Do you understand, then?”

“Yeah,” she lied. “I gotcha.”

“Good,” he said, and drew his sword. 

Orihime had just enough time to throw her shields up, eyes wide, before his blade slammed down against her defences. While she was not the type to really talk in battle, in order to concentrate, she let out a very un-Orihime-like, “Shit!” as she fell back into the sands.

Great! He was trying to kill her! Just when Grimmjow had left! 

She threw her senses out for him, to call out to him with her spiritual pressure. He wasn’t far. In fact, she could see him as she turned her head, sitting up on top of a corroding pillar. Just. Watching.

_ Asshole!  _ She thought furiously at him.  _ Get over here and defend me! _

But he just watched, satisfied, it seemed, to watch her get thrown back into the sands. Orihime stumbled to her feet just in time to block another attack, and then another. She looked back at Grimmjow again, wondering what the hell was keeping him.

“Focus,” Ulquiorra said. “Or I will kill you where you stand.”

_ Isn’t that what you’re trying to do already? _

She squared up with focus. He always lead with his sword, keeping his body just out of reach. But she had long-range attack. If she could keep him at bay with Tsubaki, she could block his cero attacks with her other fairies. Shit. Shit! He was going to kill her before she did anything she’d meant to fix! Goddamn it!

She leapt back, summoning her attack sheild. It formed, protecting her head from another strike, and then launched Tsubaki from the center. Ulquiorra barely had time to pary with his sword, throwing himself away from her.

Good. She had a little bit of space. She navigated Tsubaki. Pary, attack, pary, attack. Ulquiorra threw a cero at her. She formed a sheild to stop it, momentarily calling tsubaki back to launch him again. Ulquiorra was fast, though. He was on her before Tsubaki had even made it back. She had time to form to sheilds as bracers along her arms before he was upon her.

Already she was panting heavily, sweating hard. The sand bogged her down, making every move tenuous. She felt the wind from his sword on her cheek as she blocked a particularly close attack. 

She didn’t want to kill him or anything, but what the hell was she supposed to do? Grimmjow was still just watching!

Had this been their plan all along? Where this version of Grimmjow and Ulquiorra actually working together? But why? Either one of them could have attacked her at any moment. Hell, Grimmjow could have demolished her while she was in a bath towel. 

It didn’t make any sense! 

“Focus,” Ulquiorra commanded. His sword scraped loudly against her sheild, showering her face with hot sparks. She closed her eyes against the blinding spray, an involuntary whimper making its way from her mouth.

Tsubaki was ready. She sent him out the exact second his sword made contact, knowing she had a very short window where he wasn’t defending himself. Tsubaki hit him in the gut, solidly. She opened her eyes.

She had no killing intent. Ulquiorra wasn’t even bleeding.

_ No! _

And yet… he’d stopped.

“Good,” Ulquiorra said. “You are able to at least meagerly defend yourself.” He sheathed his sword.

Orihime lowered her arms. “Wh. What?”

“I would not launch a full attack against you. However, your defence could hold off a lesser arrancar. With practice–”

“You tried to kill me!” She yelled. She felt her eyes welling with tears again. Great, just great. He was going to think she just cried all the time. And it was his fault she was always crying, too! She pointed at him, angry. “What kinda guy just calls off his attack like that? Are you going to kill me or not?”

From far off: the sound of Grimmjow laughing his ass off.

She whipped around to glare at him.  _ Traitor! _

Ulquiorra stood across from her, head tilted in what seemed to be confusion. “I do not understand,” he said.

“What is there to understand?” She huffed. “You just attacked me out of nowhere!”

His brows came together. “You said you understood.”

…

Shit. 

_ “If you so desire to see me train, you will be part of it. Any fraccion of mine should be able to defeat the fraccion of the lesser espada. You are a human; fragile, weak. We will change this. You will be as strong as your station implies; in the coming war, you will bring glory to Lord Aizen and to myself. I will not have you be an embarrassment. As my skill grows, so too will yours. Eventually, even your so-called ‘friends’ will fear you.” _

_ La la la, trees beds cellphones stickers, hmm hmm hmm, I’m not listening. _

_ “Right?” _

_ “Do you understand, then?” _

_ “Yeah. I gotcha.” _

_ “Good.” _

Orihime shook herself. She was not only pissed off, she was embarrassed. And Grimmjow was still laughing, the only between the three of them likely to know exactly what had just happened. 

“I’m going home!” She yelled, and turned away from him in a flurry of skirts and white sand. She recalled her fairies to her hairpins. 

“That is good,” Ulquiorra said, following her. “It is time for you to lunch.”

“Alone!” She yelled at him. She flashed away before he could answer.

Grimmjow’s raucous laughter followed her, even into her rooms. 

 

~(o0o)~

That night, Orihime lay in Ulquiorra’s bed again, trying to go to sleep. She felt cold, even wrapped up in the sheets and blankets alike. She pulled her knees to her chest and held her arms about herself, feeling alone and disheartened. 

She was doing this all for her friends. But she’d sort of thought that a re-do of the past would mean she wasn’t so lonely anymore. Somehow, though, she’d felt more lonely than ever since warping back in time. 

Especially alone in a bedroom that wasn’t hers, knowing that Ulquiorra was off doing who-knew-what, just like all the rest of the espada. She knew they slept, but they needed less of it. It made for an even lonelier night, knowing he wasn’t just beyond the door.

And it didn’t help that she was in a teenager’s body, with teenage hormones. Not just the sad hormones; the horny hormones, too. Wanting to get rawed only made her feel sadder. It had in the future, too, when she’d been Ichigo’s wife, but still. That had been a different kind of sad. A I-wish-you-and-I-wanted-each-other sad. 

Anyway.

There was no way she could go to sleep. And she wasn’t going to masturbate in Ulquiorra’s bed. It felt weird, somehow, and she wasn’t that desperate yet. All she needed was a walk.

She stepped out of bed and pulled on a pair of socks. She was wearing a set of pajamas Ulquiorra had provided her--white full length pants with black hemming, and a button-up top to match. There were not likely to be many people out and about, so she didn’t mind the outfit.

She crept to the door and carefully pushing it open, peeking through the crack for any signs of Ulqiuorra. Like she had suspected, he was gone. Such a shady character; why did he even have his own room if he was never going to be in it?

She shook her head. She didn’t care what Ulquiorra did.

Silently, Orihime took out into the night. The lights had been turned out for the night, and the hallways were washed gray with moonlight. She wrapped her arms around herself, sure it was colder without the artificial light, and moved noiselessly down the corridors. 

She watched through windows as she passed them. Hollow creatures roamed the sands; some alone, some in droves. They were so far from the castle walls that they appeared tiny to her. Ants, milling about the grains. 

She stopped to watch a bear-like hollow lumber past a tree. She wondered if Nelliel was out there, alone and in a child’s body, with no memory of who she’d once been. Orihime knew that it would be right to go out looking for the girl, but she feared what it would mean to bring her back to Hueco Mundo. No one was safe in the castle, and the child was no exception. Ichigo should not have brought her when he did–-he’d been lucky that she had been the person she was, or it was very likely he would have had a little girl’s death on his hands.

She moved on.

The windows cast long boxes of glowing white on the ground. Between the boxes were long strips of darkness. She skipped over the dark and tip-toed through the light, careful not to slip on her socks. It was surprising to her that the floors were always so clean. Why wasn’t there sand all over the halls? Did Aizen make the lower arrancar clean the place?

As silly as these things were, there was still so much she just didn’t know.

“You.”

She turned. The voice was familiar, and the woman addressing her was distantly familiar as well. Orihime had never spent that much time with Tier Hallibel, but she’d found the woman to at least appear to be loyal to her fraccion; more than she could say for most of the espada.

“Oh. Hi.” Orihime turned and gave a little wave, suddenly feeling a little silly about wandering around in her pajamas. Especially when Hallibel was in full armor. 

She no longer covered her mouth with her coat. The terror of her bones was on full display; the mouth and jaws of a shark covering her lower face. She had two scars on her forehead; one just above her right brow, and the other interrupting her left. Her eyes were shockingly aqua, and her blond hair was pulled into a collection of afro curls just barely brushing her forehead. Her armor made two large fins out of her shoulders, and another bone plate protruded from her back. Of all the espada, she looked most fierce. 

“What is it you are doing outside of your rooms?”

Orihime blinked at her. This was not how she would have preferred to meet Halibel. There was little to be done about it, though. “Walking,” she said. “What about you?”

Halibel raised a brow. 

“Oh.” Orihime frowned. “You meant. Why was I allowed to leave. Right. Well, I mean, aren’t your fraccion allowed to leave whenever they feel like it?”

“My fraccion are not like you,” Tier said. Her real message came across loud and clear:  _ they’re  _ real _ fraccion. _

“Right,” Orihime said. She turned to look back out the window. It was chilly, and she was beginning to regret her late night walk. “Of course.”

For a moment, Tier simply watched her. Orihime wondered if she was being sized up, and then realized she didn’t really care. She’d sort of wanted to be Tier’s friend, at one point, just to have another girl to talk to, but the Espada weren’t exactly a socialisation club. 

“They talk about you.”

Orihime looked back up. “Who?”

“My fraccion.” She turned and looked outside, too. “They’re insulted by you. We all fought and met challenge for our positions. You’re a mockery of that. You are just a human pet, given to Ulquiorra out of spite. That you would bear their title irks them.”

“They like to gossip, huh?”

“Grimmjow’s fraccion are equally upset, from what I have heard. Doubly so now that he has seemingly taken an interest in you. You should be wary. They do not like that you make them look bad.”

Orihime shrugged. “If they want revenge or something,” she said, “They can get in line.”

Tier looked over at her. “You are not afraid?”

“I stopped being afraid years ago.”

“I can’t tell if you’re admirable or foolish.”

“Oh, definitely foolish,” she said. She leaned into the window and let out a long sigh. “But not afraid. Not yet.” 

_ She stepped into the asiel, legs shaking underneath her dress. She wasn’t going to throw up while Ichigo’s friends and family were all staring at her. She could do this. She could do this. She could do this. _

_ This was forever, she realized. _

_ She was very afraid. _

“... Not yet,” she said again.

Tier looked at her. “You should have been given to me,” she decided. “We are the women of Los Noches. We should stick together.”

“I can’t tell if this is a trap of some sort or not.” 

Tier’s brow ticked up. A laugh, perhaps? “Not this time,” she said. “My girls would love to meet you. Come around some time.” She turned and wandered off without further commentary, leaving Orihime to gape after her. The white of her fin bones shone in the dark as she swayed off, appearing almost to swim through the black.

Orihime wasn’t sure if she’d been propositioned, threatened, or both.

_ I guess I don’t care either way, huh? _

She decided that she’d had enough adventuring for the night and started back to her rooms, feet growing cold the longer she was devoid of blankets. When she finally made it back, she cracked the door open and discovered Ulquiorra asleep on the couch, a white blanket thrown limply over his legs. He was perfectly still in sleep; hands clasped over his belly. White as he was, he looked like a corpse. 

She moved into the room. She wondered if he’d been the one to move her back to bed, before. Had he pondered her sleeping self like she did his? Had he been silent enough, gentle enough, to carry her without her waking? And if so, why? Why would he bother?

Tiptoeing, she silently crept towards the couch, and then stood still over Ulquiorra.

He really was beautiful, she thought. Pale like china, painted like a doll. His hair was silky and inky against the couch, his chest rose and fell with each breath. His hollow hole moved, too. She wanted to touch it. To feel the skin inside. Was it a scar? Was it like limbo; just darkness and nothing? Was it him, somehow?

She didn’t dare reach out and touch him for fear of waking him and getting a cero in the face. But she watched him, for a moment, feeling conflicted over her feelings. She had been quick to dismiss him as an ass. And he’d been an ass, but…

She knelt next to the couch, leaning her head on the cushion near his hip. “You don’t know anything else, do you?” She reached out, flicking a stray hair away from his closed eyes. “How could you, anyway?”

By some miracle, he did not wake--or, if he did, he did not show it.

She stayed like that for a moment longer, bent over his sleeping form. She wanted to pet his hair, hold his face. Tell him that there was more beyond what those eyes of his saw. He’d never listen to her. Not until it was too late.

“How am I going to get you out of this alive?” She sighed. He was loyal to a fault. He would never stop. Never.

Eventually, her legs grew numb from being curled under her, pressed into the cold, too-hard ground. She rose unsteadily and very quietly she slipped back into bed, hoping he hadn’t checked up on her before and would be pleased only to find her in the morning. 

She dreamed about a window in the dark; her apartment window. Nothing else, no sensation, no smell, no sight. Just a window, and outside, rain. Rain, rain, rain.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work, consider following K. Anderson Books on [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/kandersonbooks/) and [Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/kandersonbooks/) for more content! 


End file.
